


Disaronno

by kayoedk



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, M/M, Older Eren Yeager
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayoedk/pseuds/kayoedk
Summary: Eren and the crew are out celebrating Mikasa's 21st birthday and the night takes an interesting turn when Eren goes outside for a cigarette and asks a handsome stranger with neck tattoos for a light.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Levi Ackerman/Erwin Smith, Levi/Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 62
Kudos: 373





	1. Disaronno

**Author's Note:**

> A combination of AOT being depressing (but also amazing) af lately, Miss Rona making me miss the club, and SO MANY thirst trap man-bun Eren videos on Tik Tok compelled me to write this. Like Eren's hotter than ever now and he can't even enjoy it because he's too busy going to war. And same for everyone else in the show, tbh. 
> 
> So, here's some smut for your nerves. 
> 
> Time for everyone to be friends again.

Vanity lights shined brightly in Mikasa’s eyes as Historia dipped a fan brush inside a container of highlighting powder and tapped off the excess, particles sparkling in the air like fairydust, before buffing it over her cheekbones. Once all the product was deposited on her skin, Historia sat back in her chair and examined her work, tilting her head to the left and then to the right, humming to herself. She determined inwardly that it wasn’t enough and repeated the process.

“Do you have to put so much fucking glitter on her?” Ymir reprimanded from her spot on Mikasa’s bed where she laid with her head resting in her hand.

Historia, unfazed, continued to pat the highlighter onto the high points of Mikasa’s cheeks. After three years together, she was used to her girlfriend’s perpetually sour attitude. “How will anyone know she’s a bad bitch without any glitter?”

“Well, I’m gonna Doordash Taco Bell,” Sasha interjected, sitting next to Annie on the floor and scrolling through her phone. “Does anyone want anything?”

“No, Sasha!” Historia protested. “We’re leaving in like 10 minutes.”

Sasha groaned and rolled her eyes. “You said that 30 minutes ago, bro. I’m starving over here. My metabolism demands precious nutrients.”

“Go chew on an Adderall,” Ymir quipped flatly.

“I’m off pills.”

“Done!” Historia exclaimed amidst their banter, setting the makeup brush aside. “How do you feel?” she asked excitedly as Mikasa inspected herself in the mirror. She turned her head at different angles, watching the highlight shimmer against the beauty lights and noted how a faint hue of purple was visible.

“I like it,” she replied sincerely.

Suddenly, a pounding noise could be heard from the other side of the wall, rattling the array of cosmetic cartridges on the vanity. Ymir huffed and sat up on the comforter, annoyed.

“Will you fuck off?” she yelled at the wall.

On the other side, Reiner could hear Ymir’s outburst of displeasure. Satisfied that the message for them to hurry up was received, he returned his attention back to the boys gathered in the kitchen. “Why do these girls always take so goddamn long? I could go to the fucking moon and back in the time that it takes them to get ready.”

“Reiner, think fast!”

Reiner reacted just in time to catch a cold, unopened beer can that was tossed to him by Jean. He saw how Jean already possessed one of his own, along with Connie and Bertholdt. Immediately, he knew a shotgun challenge had been issued and he grinned smugly. “You’re not trying to go toe-to-toe with the champ, are you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jean said offhandedly as he retrieved his car keys out of his back pocket to break a hole in the can. “We know how you got a lot of swallowing practice from taking loads from your uncle.” Despite the insult, Jean handed the keys over to Reiner good-naturedly after he was done with them.

“Jaeger, you in?” Connie called over his shoulder to Eren who was perched on the counter, tapping around boredly on his phone.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered, eyes still on the tiny screen in his hand. After a second of delay, Eren clicked the lock button and hopped onto the linoleum floor, pulling his long hair back into a bun. He reached his hand out, palm up, and Jean placed a beer in it. Reiner passed around the keys and Eren followed suit with puncturing a hole through the aluminum.

All the boys, except for Armin since he wasn’t much for the theatrical side of drinking, eyeballed each other in confirmation and after a brief countdown from Reiner, they all pressed the cans to their mouths, snapped open the tabs, and sucked out the liquid as quickly as they could, crushing them to get every last drop. Beer spilled from their chins and they leaned their heads over to prevent it from getting on their clothes, allowing it to spill at their feet instead.

Reiner finished first and slammed the crushed can onto the ground. Eren came in a narrow second, followed by Connie, Jean and Bertholdt. Reiner let out a wet, victorious belch.

“Still the champ.”

The approaching clacking of heels echoed from down the hallway and the girls came rounding the corner, wearing pants that clung to their legs and shirts in various fashions: tanktop, sleeveless turtleneck, plunging neckline, and a crop top. The only outlier was Annie who was wearing a black dress with slits cut into the sides, exposing her upper thighs.

Armin and Bertholdt stared at her completely transfixed.

Reiner whistled as they came into the kitchen. Historia spotted the beer on the floor and her tone became vexed even though it wasn’t even her house.

“Come on, guys! Could you stop living like animals?”

Annie readjusted her purse higher on her shoulder and flipped her hair back, her eyes remaining apathetic as always. “Someone pour me a shot. I’m not going to the club sober.”

“Make that double for me,” Ymir added, holding up two fingers.

Armin shifted to go towards the counter and pour a shot for Annie but Bertholdt was already on the task without a moment’s hesitation. Eren noticed how his face fell in disappointment and he offered his best friend a heartening pat on the back, squeezing his shoulder for good measure, which earned the faintest of smiles.

Bertholdt assumed the responsibility of pouring the rest of the group shots of Jim Beam and passed them out like a preschool teacher handing out snacks at lunch time. When everyone received their own, Jean lifted his up into the air, looking over at Mikasa a little too fondly for Eren’s liking. He hoped he wouldn’t have to rearrange his jaw later in the evening.

“To the birthday girl!” Jean cheered and everyone enthusiastically reiterated the same before dumping the whiskey down their throats.

-

They rode two Ubers downtown to the first bar of choice, Garrison’s. They were dropped off on the side of Main Street where bulbed lights were strung up and down alleyways and the bars beckoned patrons forth with their pink, purple, and blue tints from neon signs. The sidewalks were alive with young college kids coming in and out of different establishments, talking and laughing amongst their friends, celebrating nothing in particular other than the fact it was a Saturday night.

It was relatively early and yet Garrison’s was packed since it was the community hotspot for pre-gaming. The interior was like any typical university bar: polished oak high tables, 4K flat screen TVs mounted on every corner playing the latest football game, loud as hell, and cheap over-poured drinks.

Luckily, there was a corner booth available and Connie was quick to snatch it up.

It wasn’t large enough for all of them to fit but a majority of them were able to make room, leaving only Connie and Reiner to stand which, by nature, made them the official drink runners. Everyone bellowed their orders over the chaotic symphony of classic rock music and numerous other conversations happening around them from other parties. Connie and Reiner shoved their way up to the bar and no one was confident they caught remotely half of what was said.

Eren sat between Mikasa and Armin. On his right, Mikasa was nervously bouncing her foot under the table with her hands clasped in her lap. Being the center of everyone’s affections to any degree was a foreign phenomenon for her and made her exceedingly anxious. However, Eren was certain a few more drinks would cure that affliction. On his left, Armin was glancing over at Bertholdt who was engaged in conversation with Annie. A whole other can of worms.

Eren nudged him. “Yo, don’t even worry about it.” When Armin refocused his considerations to Eren, he pointed discreetly in Annie’s direction and leaned close to Armin’s ear. “Look at her, she’s bored to tears.”

Armin scrutinized Annie’s expression and then looked back at Eren. “I think she always looks like that,” he countered and then sighed. “Doesn’t matter. At least he had the guts to make a move.”

“That just means you gotta shoot your shot then, right?”

Armin gave him another benevolent but unconvincing smile in response.

After a whole eternity had passed, Reiner and Connie finally reappeared from the crowd carrying several clear solo cups containing an assortment of alcoholic concoctions. They called out the drinks, forgetting which belonged to who. Eren helped them out by grabbing his Disaronno sour, Mikasa’s vodka cranberry, and Armin’s rum and coke. Surprisingly, nothing was missed.

“Liquid courage,” Eren urged as he slid Armin’s drink over to him, who nodded and took a rather large first gulp.

The final item to be handed off was a shot glass full of a clear liquid that Connie passed over to Mikasa. A lime accompanied it shortly after and it became obvious that it was tequila but she continued to regard it with confusion.

“I didn’t order-”

“No shit you didn’t order it, girl!” Sasha blurted out. “It’s your _birthday_!” She purposefully yelled the last part boisterously enough to attract the attentiveness of other bar-goers. Strangers who were either already drunk or simply in good spirits cheered for Mikasa and her face burned red.

“Take it, take it,” Sasha chanted, erecting herself up in the booth on her knees and waving her arms encouragingly to the audience. They gradually started to join in and within seconds, half of Garrison’s was vocalizing for Mikasa to take the shot while they drummed their fists heavily on other tables, rattling empty glasses.

Mikasa exhaled, picked up the glass and tossed it back, wrinkling her nose at the taste and biting into the lime. An uproar of applause followed. Astonishingly, the overwhelming amount of positive energy caused the corners of her mouth to twitch upwards while the lime was still crushed between her teeth.

Eren was happy to see her finally enjoying herself.

They didn’t linger at Garrison’s for much longer. Maybe an hour and a half. It gave them time to polish off their first round of drinks and order a second. Mikasa, two shots and two vodka cranberries deep, was beginning to decompress. Probably at a rate faster than most since she rarely drank over her limit and her tolerance was remarkably low. Everyone could tell when Connie told a shitty joke about tits and Mikasa snorted at it. Nobody wanted to unintentionally make her self-conscious so they all relished in silence.

Two blocks away was a newer dance club called Sina and the group voted that to be their next objective for the night. The tab had been paid out in advance, so everyone shook around the ice in their cups, hoping to dislodge some extra alcohol, and drained whatever was left before getting up to leave. Once outside, the smokers all patted their pockets or riffled through purses in search for a cigarette. Jean couldn’t find his pack which meant Connie was high and dry because he “only smoked when tipsy” so he never brought his own and often bummed off Jean. Eren, feeling generous, handed them two of his menthols.

They smoked and ambled down the street, breaking off into sub-groups to have their own discussions. Within ten minutes, they were approaching the blacked-out front doors of Sina and cigarettes were stomped out on the concrete. The bass of the music could be heard from well outside the club as they stood in line for the bouncer to check their IDs and collect their five dollar cover charges. When Eren passed through the threshold, the dull thumping bass erupted into an exhilarated, comprehensible tempo that vibrated his chest. Flashing colored lights and bodies swaying on the dance floor welcomed him.

Historia and Sasha linked arms with Mikasa and instantly began dancing as they sashayed up to the bar where they ordered Vegas Bombs for everyone.

Sina’s bartenders were much more agile than the ones at Garrison’s. They had eleven large shot glasses lined up in minutes and in less than ten seconds they were all gone. As they stacked up the hollow glasses on the bar, the music switched and the familiar tune of “Hot Girl Summer” replaced it.

Historia took hold of Ymir’s arm and gasped, pulling her to the dance floor while motivating others to come along. All the girls followed and Jean and Connie needed little convincing to join them. Eren knew Reiner, Bertholdt, and Armin weren’t one for dancing, but he dragged Armin with him anyways much to his objections.

“Eren, no, seriously-”

Before Armin could argue further, he was thrown into a throng of sweating, gyrating people. He tensed up, looking frantically to Eren with his palms turned outwards.

“Just start with a two-step,” Eren instructed over the music and demonstrated as he shuffled side-to-side.

Armin mimicked the action like his bones were made of steel and Eren had to suppress his laughter.

“Put some flavor in it,” he recommended charitably.

Armin consciously relaxed his body but his movements were awkward all the same. Eren figured it wise to leave it alone. This was most likely the best Armin was capable of. After taking some time to get a feel for the music, Eren gestured over to Annie who was dancing with the girls. Armin shook his head vehemently, prompting another insistent gesture from Eren. Glancing over his shoulder to Annie, Armin gulped down a fearful wad stuck in his throat. With a parting nod to Eren, Armin tried to keep his breathing even as he came up to Annie, his heart racing a million miles a second.

When he appeared next to her, all he could manage was, “Hey.”

“What?” she shouted over the bass.

“Hey!” he repeated, raising his voice about four octaves.

“Hey!”

A blush rose in Armin’s cheeks as he leaned closer to her ear. “M-May I have this dance with you?”

Annie’s smile towards the question was subtle and coupled with an inaudible chuckle. “How regal of you.”

“WHAT?”

“Nevermind!”

She accepted the invitation by facing her body in his direction and resumed moving along with the music, only now she directed all of her energy at Armin who reciprocated with his recently learned two-step. Annie must have found it endearing since she didn’t flinch away in embarrassment.

Shocked and delighted beyond belief, Armin found Eren in the crowd and gave him a thumbs up.

Now that he was only responsible for his own good time, Eren danced with the rest of the group without any reservations, letting the blaring music boost his endorphins. At one point, a waitress came along expertly balancing a tray as she weaved in and out of the fluctuating mob selling two dollar jello shots in plastic syringes. Eren bought one for himself and another for Mikasa since he had yet to pay for a single one of her drinks that evening. As an act of sibling camaraderie, they swallowed the gelatin together. Mikasa inhaled hers down like she ate jello shots for breakfast.

It was around then that Eren realized that he was becoming properly drunk. Although he criticized Mikasa for being an inordinately serious person, Eren also had a disposition to be serious as well but in a more combative way compared to his sister who suffered the defect more pensively. So, it was unquestionably the liquor coming out when the middle school classic “Get Low” started playing and he screamed the lyrics along with almost everyone else that was present on the dance floor, especially at, “To the windoooooooow, to the wall!”

The liquor had consumed Mikasa completely for she was dancing ass-to-crotch with Jean, who Eren was certain had died, went to heaven, met God and all the apostles, and then was revived and sent back to Earth purely because of the blood rushing to his dick. Since Mikasa was facilitating the interaction, it wouldn’t be fair for Eren to ground his fist into Jean’s horseface.

But the night wasn’t over yet.

When the song ended, Eren was long-pressed for a cigarette and settled on going alone. He forced himself through the horde and exited out the doors to the back patio where people were huddled around standing heaters, surrounded by plumes of smoke and engaged in inebriated chatter and riotous laughter. Eren situated himself off to the side and dug a cigarette out of his pack, sticking the filter in his mouth. He perused around in his pockets and sighed inwardly.

He had lost his lighter.

Eren addressed the guy next to him who had his back turned. “Hey, can I get a light?”

The most unusual, intense gray eyes he had ever seen in life fastened to his. They were accented by jet black hair that rested just above dark eyelashes. Second thing Eren discerned was the pair of wings tattooed around a pale throat. _Goddamn_ , he thought, staring keenly as the man handed him a silver zippo lighter. As Eren accepted it, he noted how the stare was being reciprocated in a similar fashion. He flipped open the lighter top and sparked it, touching the tobacco to the flame and puffing until the cherry burned. He then snapped it shut and mumbled a thanks before it was taken from his grasp.

_His fingers are tattooed, too._

And that, uneventfully, appeared to be the end of it. The tattooed stranger reverted his attention back to his friend who wore square-framed glasses and her hair pinned high, but that did little to deter Eren from catching glimpses out of the corner of his eye while he chaffed his cigarette down to the nub. With nothing left to smoke, he stabbed it out in one of the ashtrays scattered about the patio and begrudgingly went back inside to his own friends. The interest apparently wasn’t as mutual as he had thought.

When Eren disappeared through the door, Hanji widened her eyes at Levi and wiggled her eyebrows.

“No,” he answered conclusively to her implications.

“Come on,” she whined.

“I’m still detoxing.”

“You and Erwin have been broken up for months. Your dick is going to shrivel up and die.”

Levi scoffed. “Great, a solution to all my problems.”

“You had a glint in your eye,” Hanji pressed on. “So did he. It’s a done deal. You just gotta give it a little push.”

Humoring her, Levi leaned back and peeked through the patio door window and spied the kid alone at the bar. He tore himself away and snuffed out his own cigarette. Picking up his drink, he swallowed the droplets that remained and crushed the ice between his teeth, pondering. Nevermind getting laid. It had been a while since he had even flirted with another living being and perhaps he did miss the thrill of navigating through unknown territory, where one misstep could blow the whole thing to smithereens but the correct one could have them touching your arm affectionately, fingers grazing your skin.

The notion of it truly didn’t sound as unspeakably awful as he was convincing himself it was. Especially when the specimen in question wasn’t bad on the eyes.

Levi set down his cup and left to go inside, resulting in an approving squeal from Hanji. He held up a finger to silence her. “Don’t even,” he warned. The squealing ceased but the shit-eating grin remained as Levi abandoned her on the patio. He paused once he re-entered the club, honing in on the bar area. He dare say a small rush of uneasiness surged in his chest before he made the final commitment to approach.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he managed to ask collectedly.

Perplexity etched itself onto Eren’s features at the unsuspecting request. “Uh, sure. Disaronno sour.”

Levi flagged down the bartender with a short wave. “Two Disaronno sours, please,” he said, offering her a twenty dollar bill and insisting she keep the change. When she departed to fulfill the order, Levi extended his hand to Eren.

“Levi.”

Eren admired his marked fingers as they clasped around his own - not too softly because he wasn’t a princess, but not too firmly either because this wasn’t a business meeting.

“Eren.”

In an effort to strike an initial topic, Eren landed lamely on, “Did it hurt?”

Levi raised a puzzled eyebrow but saw him motioning towards his neck. Understanding the question, he responded with a shrug. “It wasn’t particularly pleasant.”

“What are they for?”

“Angel wings. My family died in a car accident when I was four.”

Eren blinked dumfoundedly. Levi could see the steam coming from his ears as his brain tried to think of an appropriate response.

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh,” Eren replied, placing a hand tenderly on his heart. “I was going to say my mom also died in a car accident when I was a child.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry-”

“Kidding,” he sang with a grin.

Levi furrowed his brows in amused shock, a smile forming on his lips. “You’re a cheeky little brat.”

“Brat?” Eren probed genially.

“What are you, twenty?”

“Twenty-two. How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“That means you’re thirty.”

“ _About_ to be thirty,” Levi corrected.

“When’s your birthday?”

“December 25th.”

“Oh, like Jesus Christ himself,” Eren jested. “And you’re both Capricorns.”

“Please do not fucking start on that shit.”

In the midst of their repartee, the bartender presented them with both of their drinks. Levi grabbed his and handed the other to Eren and they sipped on them casually. “So, what are you doing here tonight?”

Eren pointed to Mikasa who was currently entering the twerking stage of her drunkenness.

“It’s that one’s birthday,” he answered.

“Ah, to be young. Who is she?”

“My sister.”

Levi hummed in acknowledgement, drinking more of his Disaronno sour and got straight to the point. “You wanna dance?”

Eren grinned over the rim of his cup. “Yes.”

They both drained their respective contents before braving the journey out into the sea of people which seemed to have only grown in mass since Eren was last trapped in it. As they pushed through the congregation, Ariana Grande’s “Everyday” reverberated overhead. When they had located and secured an open spot, Eren whirled around, emboldened, to meet Levi and they began to dance. Although it was already tight quarters to begin with, there was room to get closer but they left that extra space to figure each other out.

_Anytime I'm alone, I can't help thinking about you_  
_All I want, all I need, honestly, it's just me and you_  
_He giving me that good shit_  
_That make me not quit, that good shit_  
_He giving me that good shit_  
_That make me not quit, that good shit_

When the chorus of the song hit, the zeal it generated coaxed them to bridge part of the gap where their limbs were skimming up against each other as they rolled their bodies to the music. Eren’s spirit enlivened. The combination of the soaring melody, lights pulsating in his eyes, and being wonderfully drunk but not unreasonably so as he swayed with a man who clearly wanted to take him home, made him unhinged in the best way.

Levi must have been experiencing the same because he snaked an arm around Eren’s waist and pulled him close, their bodies pressed together as they grinded against one another.

They were entangled in this manner for most of the song’s duration until the last chorus rang and Ariana nailed that high note, alluring them to lechery like a cry from a siren. They touched foreheads, teasing at what they both plainly wanted. Neither possessing incredible resolve, the restraints broke shortly after and their lips connected and tongues slipped into each other’s mouths.

_Oh, he give it to me_  
_Everyday, everyday, everyday_  
_He give it to me_  
_Everyday, everyday, everyday_

“Dude, your brother!” Sasha called to Mikasa, hitting her arm frantically and pointing over to Eren making out with someone none of them knew.

Mikasa, along with everyone else in their friend group who were on the dance floor, looked over at the scandalous display. Normally, she would disagree with this kind of wild behavior from Eren, but she was an entirely new breed that night. Instead, she and the others hooted and hollered at him favorably.

Eren could hear them over the music and in a poor attempt to conceal his indecency he used one of his hands to cover up the side of both of their faces, flipping them the bird, while using the other to snatch Levi by the back of the neck so that he could kiss him deeper in the middle of the congested club.

-

It was 2:15 in the morning and last call had been issued fifteen minutes prior. It was officially time to pack up and go home. Rounding up almost a dozen drunk adults like foolhardy cattle proved to be a challenge but somehow they accomplished it. As they were leaving, Levi informed Eren that he had to tell his friend with the glasses and the ponytail that he would be going separate ways from her.

“I don’t remember inviting you back to my place.”

“Oh, okay, well then nice meeting you-”

Eren giggled drunkenly, catching Levi’s wrist. “Come here,” he said playfully and kissed him for what was the millionth time that evening. He truly couldn’t get enough of it. Levi practically had to rip himself away in order to track down Hanji, but he assured Eren that he was coming back.

“I’ll be out front then,” Eren called after him. He did make it outside without stumbling but he definitely wasn’t steady. The air was crisp, or should have been, but the alcohol had Eren’s veins running hot and he barely shivered.

Connie, on the other hand, was perfectly clipped and wobbling around, all his words coming out as shouts.

“Where is the _fucking_ Uber? I called for that shit 45 minutes ago!” In his stupor, he spotted a scene that affronted him. “And would you look at that over there - unbelievable! What even is tonight?”

Eren immediately discovered what Connie was rambling about since it was hard to miss Annie and Armin crudely hidden away in the corner of the brick building that housed club Sina, also publicly making out.

“Looks like they’re having fun,” Levi observed as he reappeared next to Eren.

“It’s kinda turning me on.”

Levi chucked low and took Eren’s hand. “You’re something else.”

Eventually, the Uber did arrive and somehow Connie, even in his incoherent state, retained a sprinkling of consciousness to smartly request a larger vehicle so that they could all fit into one this time around. Eren and Levi ended up in the back third row with Armin and Annie. As Eren went to sit down, him and Armin tactfully low-fived each other and twiddled the tips of their fingers as a triumphant handshake. Meanwhile, those up front were thoroughly out of sorts. Bertholdt was pissed off for obvious reasons but spoke nothing of it. Reiner, Jean, Sasha, and Connie spoke loud and slurred sentences that made no sense to anyone but themselves. And then Mikasa was living the worst of it, not accustomed to being so plastered. Historia sat next to her and rubbed her back while Mikasa hunched over with her eyes crammed into the heels of her hands to stop herself from spinning.

The poor soul shuttling them home pulled away from the sidewalk as soon as they were all situated and they were off.

Eren scooted up to Levi, hooking their legs together. “So,” he droned. “Tell me about yourself.”

Levi sighed. “Well, it all started when my mom fucked my asshole dad and they had me, but then he split when I was two-”

“Okay, I was thinking more like hobbies.”

“You didn’t specify.”

Eren laughed uncharacteristically sharp and emphatic. It was ugly. Like, he almost snorted like Mikasa. He clasped a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound. “Why are you so funny?”

“You might be surprised to know that most people don’t respond this well to my sarcasm,” Levi admitted and then altered his tone. “On a serious note though, I’m an artist.”

“Oh,” Eren mused as he traced a finger up and down Levi’s inner thigh. “Paint me like one of your French girls, then?”

Levi bit down on the inside of his lip to suppress the impulse to yank down Eren’s pants and fuck him over the seat in front of all of his friends. As an alternative, he opted to ask, “So, what about you?”

“College student. Majoring in political science with a minor in sociology. Work part time at a record store.”

The last bit was of interest to Levi. It propelled him to unleash a series of rapid-fire questions.

“Bon Scott or Brian Johnson?”

“Bon Scott,” Eren answered swiftly

“Most overrated band?”

“The Doors.”

“Respectfully disagree. Best album?”

“The Wall.”

“Best frontman?”

Eren thought for a moment. “Eh, it’s a toss up between Freddie and David Lee Roth for me.”

“Alright,” Levi finished. “You seem to have moderately good taste.”

Their interaction carried on in this fashion the entire ride home, not faltering once, no single fleeting instance of awkwardness. It was as if they had known each other for years. And although they both recognized their intentions were sealed from the second they shared that fiery kiss on the dance floor, good conversation only helped in welding the decision solidly shut.

The car ride also, as expected, did a lot of people in. When they finally heard the tires rotate over the gravel driveway of Eren, Armin, and Mikasa’s house, everyone had to find the will to drag out their half-dead, unstable bodies. Bertholdt carried Reiner up to the front porch by the arm that was slung over his shoulder. Jean, Sasha, and Connie practically had to crawl up the hill on hand and foot. Armin, Annie, Eren and Levi brought up the rear, tipsy but capable, and Mikasa was immobile in the driveway, hands on her knees and dry heaving while Historia stayed behind, not in much better shape herself but rallying to support Mikasa like the mother hen she was. Wherever Historia went, Ymir followed, so she stood behind along with them, arms crossed and frightfully unamused.

“Just let it out, girl. You’ll feel so much better when you do.”

Eren, out of brotherly obligation, did return to Mikasa, bending down to address her with an air of concern. “You straight?”

Mikasa gagged and spat on the ground. “I just need everyone to stop talking to me.”

With that response, Eren did as he was told and proceeded back up to the front door, leaving her in the care of Historia and Ymir. Everyone was waiting impatiently on the porch for Eren to unlock the house and he fumbled around with his keys, discoordinated. Bertholdt, the other mother hen of the group, shined his phone flashlight on Eren so that he could actually see what he was doing. After an intense battle of concentration, the door was unlocked and they all staggered in. Eren only turned on lamps to illuminate the way. The intensity of the overhead lights was too much.

Eren then brought Levi into the kitchen and he opened the fridge to showcase nothing but beer, a Brita water filter, a two liter of Sprite that had seen better days, an overabundance of condiments, and some other miscellaneous food items. Still, Eren knew his manners.

“Do you want anything to drink-”

His inquiry was interrupted by Connie tripping over the coffee table in the living room and crashing flat to the floor. Sasha busted into a fit of uncontrollable laughter so strong that she also collapsed on the floor, wheezing. Jean weaved his way between Eren and Levi at the fridge, not knowing how to read a situation, and grunted like a caveman as he stole a bag of lunch meat from one of the drawers. Eren continued on, internally screaming.

“Would you like something to drink?”

Levi kept eyeballing that Sprite. “I’m good,” he replied politely.

“Cool,” Eren said gratefully. “Let’s get out of here.”

A welcomed idea that had Eren guiding Levi by the hand back to his bedroom that sat at the end of the hallway. As they entered, Levi studied his environment. A room exposes many aspects of a person’s personality and he could deduce from the colored string lights that bordered the ceiling and the old rock posters that littered his walls (Sabbath, Zeppelin, Hendrix, Cream, to name a few) that Eren was exactly the person he let on to be, which meant he was honest.

He was also undeniably a college student. On the dresser across from his bed there there was a TV that looked to be from 2004 and in the corner there was a decorated glass bong next to a recliner. Eren regarded it sheepishly and stowed it away in the back of his closet, muttering an apology.

“Wasn’t expecting guests,” he explained abashedly.

“I used to do blow when I was nineteen. You’re not offending anyone in this room.”

The cavalier demeanor in which he said something so defamatory made Eren laugh as he had done since the beginning of the night. When he shut the closet door, though, Eren was suddenly faced with the gravity of this precarious situation. Yes, it had been evident that this was going to be the outcome of this encounter, but he couldn’t help shifting around anxiously, his gaze casted downward.

“Uh,” he strained, kneading his fingers. “I’m gonna be honest, I haven’t…”

He meant to say that he hadn’t done this in a while but the statement died on his tongue. Probably about a year or so, if he was being truthful. It wasn’t anything special, either. Just some nameless girl he’d met at a frat party. Being away from home and dangerously close to graduation brought about a real identity crisis that left him constantly wondering who he was and what he wanted to be and he didn’t feel emotionally equipped to handle anything outside of his own shit. Also, no one had succeeded in riling up a fierce sense of want inside him where he absolutely needed to have them in his bed.

But now, he never wanted to fuck someone more in his life.

A hint of panic stirred in Levi’s eyes. “Do not tell me you’re a virgin.” Not that he wouldn’t deflower a virgin, but this hardly seemed like the setting to do it.

“No!” Eren exclaimed. “God, no, it’s just been a minute.”

Levi considered gracing him with sweet verbal comforts but he preferred something more physical. He drew himself close to Eren where their faces were merely inches apart, liquored breaths lightly tickling skin, and tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear. A beat of silence came and went before Eren’s mouth pressed against his and he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. It started slow, lips tenderly touching lips over and over with a peppering of tongue until it escalated to a more frenzied state. Air escaped heavily out of their noses as their tongues explored each other and teeth nipped at swollen flesh. They didn’t part once as Eren lured Levi towards the bed. When the back of Eren’s knees bumped against the mattress, they collapsed backwards.

Eren urgently caressed Levi’s body. Hands trailed up his clothed arms and fingers splayed out over his shoulder blades. Oppositely, Levi’s hands traveled downwards along Eren’s neck, chest and ribs. Reaching his waist, Levi slipped his forearm under the small of Eren’s back and hiked him up so that their bottom halves were flushed together. In response, Eren opened up his legs invitingly so that their budding erections could grind through the constraints of their jeans as they devoured one another.

Feeling the initial contact of Levi’s bulge against his own, Eren distinguished instantly that he was blessed with a lot of real estate. It made him want to stroke it.

So, he did.

He palmed Levi’s swelling member through the separating fabric, rubbing it temperately and squeezing periodically. Levi pushed himself into Eren’s hand, a moan getting lost in their mouths. He felt Eren’s lip curve into a smirk and it was comical, really, that he assumed Levi would be the one crumbling in his touch. Not when Levi had been mulling over what he was going to do to this college boy for hours once he got him alone.

Levi detached their lips and began kissing Eren’s neck, who tilted his chin up to allow for easy access. Fingers combed through black hair as teeth grazed along sensitive skin. Levi gingerly sucked down on Eren’s jugular before sinking his canines into the muscle of his shoulder, evoking a gasp. Levi pecked and circled the mark he created with his tongue and resumed his expedition south. He pushed Eren’s shirt up to expose a tanned and well-sculpted abdomen and he could have groaned at the beauty of it as his lips trailed all the way to his navel, making quick work of unclasping Eren’s belt. The belt was ripped free from its loops in one fluid motion and discarded like it was nothing, like Levi had done that a thousand times before.

It increased Eren’s arousal tenfold.

With the same dexterity, the button on his pants was snapped free and his zipper was dragged down. The next moment, they were gone, too, and he was naked from the waist down in front of a man he had met only hours before after being celibate for a whole year. Eren could have laughed but he was engrossed in studying Levi as he removed his own shirt. Eren was pleasantly surprised when more tattoos appeared. They flowed down from his throat to his upper arms and across his chest and Eren nearly wept at the sight. Unanticipatedly, Levi picked up one of Eren’s bare legs and kissed his ankle. The action was soft, charming and...romantic even?

Levi’s oral skills were anything but.

He took Eren’s erection in hand and pressed his tongue flat on the base of his shaft and traced a vein up to the tip, making unbreakable eye contact the entire time, and then enveloped his mouth around it. Eren’s legs shuttered at the wet sensation of Levi lapping and sucking on the head, toying with him, and when he heard the sound of Levi spitting on it, Eren simply could have died. The saliva was worked along his length with a clenched fist while Levi continued to pleasure the tip. The warmth was extraordinary, only getting better when Eren was taken whole down to the root. His mouth gaped in a silent moan, back arching off the bed. One of his hands found Levi’s hair again while the other gripped the bedsheets.

Levi hollowed his cheeks and relaxed his jaw, keeping his tongue flat on the base and sucked _hard_.

“Oh my fucking god,” Eren gasped, peering down at the mass of black hair bobbing up and down on his cock. A lovely enhancement to this was when Levi hooked his forearms around Eren’s thighs and spread them further apart, fingertips digging into the flesh. Eren couldn’t remember a time where he had received fellatio so earnestly and it had him edging towards climax two minutes in.

“Stop,” he breathed, tapping Levi’s shoulder. He was released upon demand, a thick string of spit connecting them. Eren perceived the alarm in Levi's expression and promptly put his mind at ease. “I just don’t want to cum yet.”

Levi smirked then. “You can always cum again.”

“Wait, what-”

Before he could utter another word, Levi swallowed him again, manipulating his cock with the same fervor, possibly even more. Pleasure mounted rapidly between his legs until it overwhelmed him and Eren, as he had warned, came in the back of Levi’s throat. Eyes rolled to the back of his head and a long groan eluded him as he rode out his orgasm.

The heat dissipated and Levi wiped his chin. He perched up on the balls of his feet to admire a delirious Eren, more than pleased. He granted him a moment to regain his composure before asking, “You got any lube?”

Mutely, still floating down from his high, Eren opened the drawer to his nightstand, dipping his hand inside and chucking a small bottle to Levi. Eren watched heedfully as he popped the cap and coated his fingers with the clear substance. Rubbing it around with his thumb, Levi looked to Eren and appreciated how gorgeous he was post-climax.

“You good?” he implored.

“I don’t know. Am I going to be?” Eren countered fretfully, staring at those slicked up digits.

“Trust me,” Levi purred overtop of him, “you’re gonna feel better than good.”

Not an ounce of Eren doubted that decree and his legs remained parted. Albeit, apprehensively. Levi cupped the underside of Eren’s knee, lifting it slightly as a gesture for him to scoot his hips up more and the request was obeyed without protest. Eren’s leg was squeezed reassuringly as Levi reached down to smear the lube on his entrance. A compulsory blush arose on Eren’s face at the awareness of someone fondling the most private area of himself. Steadily, a single finger glided inside of him and he hissed at the stretching sensation. With a rolling of his wrist, Levi tasked himself with loosening Eren up, twisting in and out repeatedly.

The tension in Eren’s features evaporated gradually. His eyebrows slackened, his eyes fluttered shut, and a hum vibrated from his throat. It was an explicit indication that he was ready for the next stage and Levi, with the same care as before, pushed in his middle finger. Once inserted, he curled both of the digits up and scraped a bundle of nerves.

Eren’s eyes went wide and a fever pooled in his cheeks, painting them a darker shade of red. His moans metamorphosed into something deeper, more carnal as Levi massaged that spot unrelentingly. Eren had been internally stimulated before but usually while the other party was jerking him off or giving him head. He had found gratification in it, naturally, however it always failed to make him cum by itself. That was not the case currently. The euphoria was next-level, a spiritual awakening of sorts. It was so astounding that his cock hardened again as if it had not dispelled all of its contents not five minutes before. He sat up on his hands, needing to position himself at attention to concentrate on not falling off the face of the Earth. His head dropped back and he rocked shamelessly against Levi’s fingers, panting harshly. As he neared another orgasm, Eren clutched Levi’s shoulder to keep himself grounded.

“Ah, fuck,” he huffed, eyes glued to the ceiling as ecstasy swept over him a second time. “Shi-Shit, I’m gonna-”

He came, violently, on Levi’s hand and on himself. Stars twinkled along the sides of his vision and his breath expelled from his lungs shakily and exhaustedly. Eren fell back onto the mattress, his stare unmoving from the ceiling.

“Who _are_ you?” he asked incredulously.

Levi leaned over him. “Ready for round three?”

Eren whimpered in palpable fear, unsure if he could handle it. Most of his hair had loosened from his bun and fly away strands encompassed his forehead and cheeks. Levi brushed them away.

“We don’t have to,” he assured.

“No,” Eren insisted weakly. “I’ll be alright, I swear. Just...give me a minute.”

To pass the time, Levi kissed Eren’s lips just to feel the softness of them. It was lazy, tired, and Levi ached horribly to be inside of him. As they kissed, Eren’s hand went back to the drawer of his nightstand and retrieved a condom, flashing it in Levi’s peripheral.

“Let me see your cock,” he whispered into his mouth.

Not needing to be told twice, Levi hurriedly stripped off his pants and briefs and Eren lifted his own shirt over his head so that they both were totally naked. Unbinding himself from the restrictiveness of his jeans was heavenly for Levi and he was already leaking in anticipation. Meanwhile, Eren’s suspicions about the man’s dick size were confirmed as correct. Good length, good girth. Something that would fill him to the brim but not tear him to pieces. Revitalized, Eren ripped the condom wrapping off with his teeth and he unraveled the latex down Levi's member, masturbating him as he went.

Levi braced himself next to Eren’s head, mindful not to bare down on his hair, and regarded him with a countenance that begged for his permission. Eren took his bottom lip in his teeth in approval and Levi, securing the base of his cock with his hand, plunged himself into that tight, sweltering warmth, groaning when he was wholly submerged. Eren threw his head back on the pillow, gripping the wrists beside his face. There was a pause so that they could both get acclimated to each other before Levi rhythmically thrust himself into the body underneath of him. As the tempo climbed, he seized a fistful of Eren’s thighs and the bed frame crashed noisily against the wall.

-

The relentless thudding and Eren’s cries of rapture rang clear as day out to the living room. The only three that had yet to retire to bed were Connie, Sasha, and Jean who were messily shoving sliced turkey breast into their mouths straight from the bag. They froze mid-meal to listen to the commotion. Connie glanced back and forth between the two of them, mortified.

“Jesus fucking Christ, is he gonna be alright?”

Sasha took the liberty of pulling out her phone and tapping her thumbs against it, echoing what she was typing aloud into Google. “Can someone die from having sex…?”

-

Levi flipped Eren over on his stomach and slapped his ass, pounding him into the mattress. Eren buried his face into the sheets and pressed his palms against the wall.

“Fuck me,” he pleaded desperately. “Your cock feels so fucking good. Fuck me _harder_.”

He was berated with a reckless abandon and he reveled in the sounds of their skin smacking together forcefully. Eren’s hair was on its last leg and coming disentangled in its tie. Levi freed it, letting it tumble around his shoulders only to gather it up in his fist a second later and pulled on it as he railed him from behind, hitting it just right. Eren’s body, glutton for punishment, permitted him a third climax he didn’t necessarily want. Being so sensitive from the previous occurrences, the overstimulation tingled almost painfully and he was screaming into his pillow. His inner walls clamped down on Levi’s length and embraced him deliciously. He released himself shortly after, a hand on the small of Eren’s back for balance, and moaned as the semen pumped out of the tip of his cock. When he removed himself, Eren barely felt his absence at all.

Immediately and conscientiously, Levi extracted the used condom and tossed it in the trash can on the other side of the nightstand. Afterwards, he fell over on his side and landed next to Eren who was still face down in the bed.

“You alive down there?"

Eren grunted before saying a barely audible, “Not really.” Another minute passed when Eren, slowly but surely, made an attempt to sit himself up against the wall, wincing as he went. He situated himself, chest heaving to catch his breath. Little by little it stabilized and he crawled over to the edge of the bed to pluck his jeans off the floor. When he returned, he handed his phone to Levi.

“Put your number in it,” Eren instructed adamantly.

Levi smirked, accepting it, and went to add his contact information. “I take it you had a good time?” The inquiry earned him a shrewd side-eye. Once he was done inputting his number, he gave the phone back to its owner. “I texted my number so I have yours, too.”

The comment had Eren happily tucking his phone beside him, not requiring it any further, and shuffling down from the wall so that he could lay next to Levi. They didn’t cuddle but they intertwined their legs together, toes playing with ankles, as they basked in a tangible afterglow and chatted about their recent debauchery.

“You probably get this a lot, but that was incredible.”

Not wanting to take all the glory, Levi stole a strand of Eren’s hair and twirled it around his index finger. “You’re fucking stunning so the pleasure was all mine, really.”

Without warning, the chaotic racket of hands banging on the other side of Eren’s bedroom wall caused both of them to jump. The pandemonium was followed by the voices of Connie and Jean who were moaning dramatically out in the hallway.

“Oh, yeah, oh, yeah!” Connie whined. “Stick it in! You make me so hot!”

“Fuck me in the ass!” Jean added. “Harder! Harder!”

Eren pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an irritated sigh. “Ignore them.”

“Their impression of you is spot-on, actually.”

Levi flinched as he was awarded with a well-deserved punch to the arm.

-

Eren awoke in the morning amazed that his headache wasn’t worse. His eyes peeled open reluctantly, his room flooded with a golden afternoon sunlight. Groaning and closing them again, he curled up on his side and extended a hand out, expecting to touch a naked chest. Instead, he was only met with empty bed sheets. Lurching up in bed, vision temporarily fuzzy from moving too fast, he inspected the room to confirm if he was actually the only one there. Dread panged in his chest when he realized he was, indeed, the only one.

He fumbled around in the comforter to find his phone and it ended up clattering on the floor where he snatched it with haste and looked, seeing several missed messages from the group chat with his friends.

And one from Levi.

He read it right away.

_Had to go to the studio today to do art shit. Maybe I’ll call you later if I’m feeling up to it._

Sarcasm radiated from the text and oddly enough, it gave Eren comfort. No longer worried, he read through his other messages which was mostly everyone announcing that they had left earlier in the morning, how they were all super hungover, and how Mikasa should be proud for having such a successful birthday, especially since last year on Bertholdt’s twenty-first he had mono so bad everyone convinced him he had malaria. Eren snickered at the memory before shutting off his phone and rising from bed, still painstakingly nude, and dressed himself in a hoodie and sweats. He exited his room and lumbered down the hallway, bones popping in his knees and his lower back pulsating from having it blown out the night before.

When entering the kitchen, he did not greet Armin or Mikasa who both appeared to be in similar deplorable states. Opening the fridge, Eren grabbed the Brita filter and drank whatever water was left straight from the spout.

“Could you maybe not?” Armin asked in disgust.

Eren made a quenched “ah” sound and put the pitcher back in the fridge, too unmotivated to fill it back up in the sink. “I’m thirsty after a ravenous night of love making.”

“No shit. The entire house heard you.”

Eren shrugged, unashamed. He looked over at Mikasa who was wrapped up snuggly in a wool blanket, staring aimlessly at the counter with her eyes glossed over in fatigue. Eren ruffled her hair. “Great birthday, loser.”

She hummed as an appreciative thanks.

Eren then turned to Armin. “So, did you bone Leonhart?”

Ordinarily such a personal question would have his friend flushing bashfully but he was too hungover to give a damn and he shook his head. “No, not all of us are sluts,” he retorted.

Eren cried in outrage, hand to his chest in feigned offense and flipped Armin off, keeping his middle finger raised as he passed him to go into the living room where he had big plans to lounge there for the rest of the day, watch Netflix, and maybe scroll through Twitter occasionally to break up the mindlessness with more mindlessness.

Neither of his roommates accompanied him. Armin, the responsible one of the bunch, wrote a term paper at the kitchen counter until evening and Mikasa quietly went back to bed until further notice.

Eren also drifted back to sleep on the couch, hood drawn over his eyes, and napped for another two and a half hours. By the time he arose again, the sun was setting through the blinds. He checked his phone. No text from Levi. He wondered then whether or not the text that was delivered to him this morning really was sarcasm. Should he text him himself? Would that make him seem desperate? What were the rules of discourse?

He settled on doing nothing. At least for another hour. The subject could be revisited then.

About forty-five minutes later his phone rang and he seized it a little too excitedly, praying it wasn’t someone else like his mom asking if he wanted to come over for pot roast, which did strike him as an appetizing idea but now was not the time.

He perked up when he saw that it was, in fact, Levi. Admittedly, his heartbeat accelerated and he had to take a breath and wait. Armin spun around from his laptop and demanded irately if he was going to bother answering it. Eren shushed him and after five rings, he slid his finger across the screen and put the phone to his ear, attempting to come off unbothered.

“Hello?”

“I was listening to The Doors today and you may have a point.”

Eren chuckled, playing with his hair like some schoolgirl. “Told you.”

“So, uh, listen,” Levi started, a hesitance in his tone. “I...ah, saw that pathetic fucking excuse for a fridge last night and, as you know well enough, I’m a natural-born giver and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out to dinner?”

Eren eagerly sat up on the couch but his voice remained subdued. “When?”

“An hour?”

“Pick me up?” he purred into the phone.

“Just continuously racking up debts, I see. High-maintenance much?”

“I guess this is a good time to tell you I only ride in cars with boys who drive a Benz.”

“Will a Porsche do?”

After sharing a laugh, they agreed that Levi would be at his house in one hour - sharp. When they hung up, Eren sprung into action and went directly to the bathroom to shower. Abominably, he had not yet washed off the grime from last night and when he shucked off his clothes he absolutely reeked of sweat, cum, and lube. Once in the shower, he put his face in the cascading hot water and slicked back his hair, sighing as the heat opened up his sinuses and dulled his headache. He dumped a generous amount of 2-in-1 body wash and shampoo on a wash rag and scrubbed the shit out of his body, paying extra mind to his pubes and armpits. When finished, he stepped out of the shower and tucked a towel around his waist and wiped the steam from the mirror. Considering his image, he contemplated what he should do with his hair and decided to use Mikasa’s blow dryer for once.

After his hair was soft and freshly dried, he dabbed a cologne stick on his neck and wrists, rubbing them together, and applied chapstick to his lips.

Still in his towel, he walked across the hallway to his bedroom and browsed his wardrobe, cringing at every option available. It had been a while since he last got laid, but it had been eons since he had last gone on a date. Everything he owned seemed so basic and he couldn’t borrow anything from Armin. It would scarcely fit his torso. As luck would have it, he did happen to come across a promising black long-sleeved shirt with a Polo Ralph Lauren tag hanging on it. He vaguely recalled his mom gifting it to him for Christmas last year and he clearly never wore it. Going to dinner with a man who blessed him with three consecutive orgasms was certainly the right circumstances to wear it for the first time.

So, he paired it with dark-hued jeans and white sneakers.

As soon as he put on a jacket, Eren’s phone chimed with another text from Levi informing him of his arrival in the driveway. Eren replied back that he was on his way outside as he switched off the light to his bedroom. He hurried back down the hallway, said a brisk goodbye to Armin and he left out the front door. As he approached the black Honda Civic, Levi lowered the passenger side window, smoking a cigarette and wearing a pair of horn-rimmed sunglasses.

“I thought you said you had a Porche,” Eren said jokingly disappointed.

“Yeah, it’s in the shop, so I had to steal this piece of shit. Get in before the cops come.”

Eren opened the door and sat down, clicking on his seatbelt. He noticed how even though it wasn’t the most dazzling of models, the interior was spotless and he could not confidently say the same for his own vehicle. Levi shifted the car in reverse, placing his right hand on the back of Eren’s headrest as he checked over his shoulder to back out of the driveway. It was such a simple maneuver but the way it teased those winged tattoos on his neck drove Eren into a lustful insanity.

Before they headed down the road, Levi selected a song from his phone that was plugged into his aux. Low guitar chords could be heard through the speakers and Eren shot Levi a flippant look when he identified the song as “People are Strange.” Levi said nothing in return and shifted the car back into forward and they departed for dinner.

Eren wasn’t certain where exactly they were going. It was never mentioned forthright, but he would be content with driving around town so long as he could be in Levi’s company until morning.


	2. Life Imitates Art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I just wanna say WOW! I received so much love on this story. Thank you all! 
> 
> So, basically, I'm just going to turn this bad boi into a light-hearted series that follows multiple scenerios of Levi and Eren's budding relationship. I'm sure there will be conflict and resolutions, but I would NOT expect a deep storyline. I literally just like writing my babies in a modern and fun setting because I just want everyone to be happy and normal young adults for once, okay? I can't take this depressing shit every Sunday anymore. 
> 
> That being said, this chapter is about sharing interests. And GUITARIST! EREN!

Water bubbled in the base of the Eren’s bong as he steadily inhaled on the mouthpiece until the chamber swirled with thick white smoke. Fingers secured around the bowl, he removed the stem and cleared the contents in one, quick, deep hit, allowing his lungs to be filled to capacity. He tightened his airwaves to keep from coughing and held the smoke in for a second or two before exhaling a large cloud. The release, however, caused a tickling sensation in his throat and he covered his mouth with the inside of his elbow and coughed anyways.

Eren extended the bong to Armin who currently sat on his bed watching television.

“You want a hit?” he asked in a strained voice, eyes misty.

“No,” Armin replied boredly. “I have to go to lunch with my parents soon.”

Eren shrugged and set the bong down beside his recliner and leaned back into it, his body delightfully heavy.

“Is your new boyfriend coming over?” he heard Armin say after a prolonged silence. Or, at least, it seemed like it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Eren insisted and another pregnant pause followed before he mumbled, “But yeah, he is.”

Armin looked over at him then with a cocked eyebrow and a light smirk, prompting Eren to shrink back in his chair in response.

“What?”

Armin’s eyebrow raised higher.

“ _What?_ ”

“Nothing,” he hummed and reverted his attention back to the boxy, outdated television. “I just can’t remember the last time you were so smitten by someone.”

Eren averted his eyes. “We’re just…”

As he trailed off in his sentence, searching for the appropriate words, recent memories of the past two weeks flashed in his mind. A montage of images materalized of him and Levi stumbling down the hallway, kissing each other madly and tearing each other's clothes off while on the way to his bedroom where Levi pressed him up against the dresser and Eren hiked a leg around his waist so that he could fuck him against it. The items on top shook and clattered and they ignored the lamp crashing to the floor and the sound of a lightbulb shattering. A cut scene then refocused him to the other day as they were climbing into the backseat of Levi’s Honda Civic in a Dairy Queen parking lot after close where they fogged up the windows and someone’s foot accidentally bumped the car horn. They both froze momentarily, laughed, and then continued their sordid acts. And then there was the instance on the kitchen counter, and in the shower, and over the armrest of the living room couch. Naturally, they were only-

“...hanging out,” Eren finished unconvincingly.

“Yeah, I’ll remember that.”

They dropped the conversation at that and decided to spend the remainder of the time they had before Armin had to partake in other plans watching sitcom reruns in blissful content and pretending Eren wasn’t on a one-way trip to catching serious feelings. Once Armin was gone for the day, and after much mental persuasion, Eren rose from his recliner and cleaned up his room in anticipation for Levi’s visit. Eren could admit that he wasn’t the cleanest person in the world, but he wasn’t absolutely filthy either. Levi’s borderline obsessive cleaning habits, though, made him feel like quite the slob, so it motivated him to collect his dirty clothes off the floor and toss them in a pile in his closet, throw away empty water bottles, roughly make his bed, and spray a copious amount of air freshener to mask any leftover weed stench.

When he was nearing satisfaction with his efforts, there was a knock at the front door. Instantly, Eren’s mood heightened as he went to answer it. Opening the door, his face fell in fabricated displeasure.

“You’re not my Tinder date.”

Levi pointed an unsure finger at him. “Are you not bigzaddycock17?”

“Nah,” Eren said and jerked his head off to the side. “That’s next door.”

“Do you want to fuck around anyways?”

Eren wrinkled up his nose. “You’re a little short for my taste-”

He was interrupted by Levi raising a balled fist and sucking in a warning breath. “You better rethink those words carefully, Jaeger.”

Eren broke character then with a good-humored chuckle and opened the door wider, an invitation for Levi to come inside. They both headed to the kitchen where Eren, learning from past mistakes, restocked the fridge with an updated variation of beverages and better beer. He handed Levi a chilled Michelob and grabbed one for himself. They used their shirts to twist off the tops which detached with a crisp hiss. After they both shared an initial sip, Eren led Levi back to his room.

As they were walking down the hallway, the door next to Eren’s that was typically shut was perched open and Levi, in his curiosity, peered inside and deduced that it wasn’t an extra guest bedroom like he had assumed on previous occasions, but a relatively empty room housing a stool, musical equipment, and guitars.

“I didn’t know you had a set up back here,” Levi commented.

Eren stopped just before entering his bedroom and backtracked to where Levi stood, pushing the door open fully for his consideration. He gestured to the pearl Fender Stratocaster. “That one’s Lebowski.” Then to the Epiphone electro-acoustic. “That one’s Monica.”

“As in Lewinsky?”

“You bet.”

“And Lebowsky?”

Eren blinked skeptically. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen The Great Lebowski.”

Levi staring blankly in return provided him all the answers he needed.

“You can leave now.”

“Think I’ll stay right where I’m at, thanks.”

At that, Levi stepped through the threshold to get a more intimate look at the guitars, slightly amazed at the notion that Eren knew how to play them. “I know you work at a music store, but I didn’t think you actually practiced.”

Eren took a nonchalant swig of his beer. “Not well. Just for fun. The only person I jam with is my dad and my brother when he’s in town.”

Levi turned to him. “You have a brother now, too?”

“Half-brother. Different moms.”

He nodded in understanding before regarding the instruments once again. “So,” he droned. “What can you play on these things?”

Obliging him, Eren placed his beer on an empty shelf and strolled over to the amplifier that was already plugged into the wall outlet and flipped a switch, a red light shining to indicate it was powered on. Next, he took the auxiliary cord and inserted it into the Fender and feedback started buzzing in the speaker. The electrical static had Levi actually expecting something great to replace it. Eren sat down on the stool in the middle of the room, propping his foot back on one of the metal legs and resting the guitar on his elevated thigh while gripping it by the neck. He uprooted the pick that was tucked between the strings and strummed on them, testing the tune. Appeased, Eren slapped a hand on the wires to halt their vibrations.

“Alright,” he announced. “I just recently started learning how to play Van Halen’s ‘Mean Street’ but I’m not the best at tapping so I can’t do the beginning, but I can do this.” He fastened his hold on the neck, pausing briefly to gather his thoughts, and then began to rap the pick strongly along the strings and a series of loud, heavy power chords blasted forth, flooding the whole house. Levi determined almost instantaneously that Eren was downplaying his talents. He played the song as clear as if he were hearing it on the original soundtrack. He admired how Eren’s fingers traveled up and down the fretboard and how his head bobbed and his knee bounced along with the music.

Not only was Levi thoroughly impressed, but he was also moderately turned on.

At the peak of his performance, Mikasa appeared in the doorway, screaming over the commotion. “Eren, would you knock it off? I’m on the phone!”

The chords ended abruptly and Mikasa returned the phone back to her ear with a degree of annoyance, giving Levi an apathetic stare before exiting the room and restarting conversation with whomever was on the other line. Eren perceived the faint echoing voice and recognized it as Sasha.

“I don’t think your sister likes me very much,” Levi declared once she was a safe distance away.

Eren waved his hand dismissively. “Mikasa is apprehensive about everyone. Sometimes I think she barely likes me and Armin.” An idea came to Eren in that moment and a mischievous smirk graced his lips as he readjusted the instrument on his thigh. “This will really piss her off.”

He played a melody that was simple and soft. Definitely not boisterous enough to cause offense. Eren looked at Levi with a dastardly gleam in his eye and started singing a song that Levi remembered hearing before from the movie “The Wedding Singer” and he smiled knowingly at what would happen next. After a couple lines, Eren violently bared down on the strings, volume doubling from before, and Levi had to cover his ears as Eren yelled the lyrics, changing them up to include Mikasa’s name for comedic effect.

“BUT IT WAS ALL BULLSHIT! IT WAS A GODDAMN JOKE! AND WHEN I THINK OF YOU, MIKASA, I HOPE YOU FUCKING CHOKE!”

As expected, Mikasa stomped back in and ripped the auxiliary cord straight out of the amplifier and, for the second time, the music died and she punched Eren repeatedly in the shoulder as he laughed amusedly and cried out in pain simultaneously. When Mikasa had exhausted her anger, she left the room and slammed the door shut.

Eren’s laughter eventually dissipated. Wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, he addressed Levi. “Ah, that was fun. Wanna grab some food?”

-

Levi drove him and Eren into town with every intention of getting a table at a restaurant, but on the journey there he received a text from Hanji requesting him to go to the building that lodged his art studio to let the maintenance guy in to fix the hot water tank since no one else was around on a Saturday. As if Hanji didn’t bank enough money from being a research assistant at a pharmaceutical company, she also got a bug up her ass years ago to invest in real estate and, as a result, Levi was gifted a loft for dirt cheap.

Being Hanji’s closest friend had its perks despite the constant tension headaches.

Levi informed Eren that the food would have to be to-go and he was unbothered by the change of plans. Truthfully, the opportunity to see Levi’s art studio had him eager. Levi spoke frequently about his work, often bitching about expenses and time-constraints, but he was modest about his creations. In a way, Eren could sympathize. While he was nowhere near a professional musician, there was an awkwardness that came with praise, so Eren tried not to pry. Instead he was left to his own imagination and something about Levi struck him as the abstract type.

Outside, the weather was growing colder as they progressed into the fall season, so they picked up a light lunch of soup and deli sandwiches before heading to their destination.

When they arrived, a commercial van was already parked by the curb and a man with a clipboard was waiting by the entrance. Levi apologized for the tardiness, flipping around the keys on his lanyard until he located the right one, and unlocked the door. He told Eren to wait on the main landing as he disappeared to show the laborer where the hot water tank was located in the basement and then reappeared after five minutes. He motioned to Eren to follow him up the stairs and they climbed up to the third floor, plastic bags of food in hand. They halted in front of a door with a glass window that had a blind pulled down over it for privacy. Levi unlocked that as well and flipped on the series of light switches to his right and several industrial-sized fluorescent tube lights flickered on, revealing an open space with even more windows that displayed a scenic view of the downtown area. Lined against the wall off to the left was a large, L-shaped counter with canvases and art supplies organized neatly about and then in the middle there was a wood table serving as an island, clear of any clutter but covered in dried paint. Straight ahead was a small stage-like area, lifted by one step, that was littered with different chairs, studio lights, and backdrops for live painting sessions and, stationed before the step, was an easel and stool.

Eren set his carry out bag down on the wood table, abandoning it entirely to study the artwork that was laying around. There were multiple incomplete projects on the counter space, but Eren’s eyes gravitated towards the pieces that were hung up on the wall like a massive collage. Upon seeing the subject matter, it was reasonable to conclude that Levi was, in fact, not an abstract artist, but specialized in realism and was partial to watercolors. Each piece conveyed the intricacies of the human body: hands, feet, arms, eyes, lips. Images of women holding children, of people staring intensely at the viewer, of people smoking cigarettes on a park bench. Sprinkled about as well were nude portraits of men and women.

Eren gave a cheeky grin. “These are wonderfully perverted.”

Levi approached, unabashed, and considered his work with an off-handedness. He didn’t gain any form of distorted gratification out of producing such portraits. He was simply fascinated with the complexities and primitiveness of the human experience.

“Do you draw these from imagination or…?” Eren goaded on.

“Sometimes.”

“And the other times?”

“From memories or real life.”

The response had Eren regarding the naked bodies with an air of self-consciousness. Neither of them had discussed past sexual history yet, but Eren knew his wasn’t anything to brag about. Before this, Levi had given off an undeniable impression that he had experienced the opposite and now the writing was on the wall. Quite literally. It made Eren feel boring and juvenile.

A sucker for self-inflicted injury, Eren reluctantly asked, “So, who all on here is from memory and real life?”

Levi pointed to one of the women. “Petra.” He pointed to another. “Hanji.”

Eren’s eyes widened and then squinted in an attempt to recognize her without glasses and her breasts out. “Your friend, Hanji?” he inquired dumbly.

“I’ve never slept with her,” Levi swiftly defended. “She’s just the most willing to take her clothes off.” After some countenance, he continued pointing, now moving onto the male bodies. “Mike.” He hesitated on the last one. “Erwin.”

Eren nodded half-heartedly, gnawing on his bottom lip.

Sensing his mounting anxiety, Levi faced him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he assured feebly.

“I promise these are all closed doors-”

“No, it’s not that.”

Levi folded his arms low with an anticipatory expression, pressing Eren to further explain himself. He shifted on his feet anxiously.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “Maybe I was thinking how it would be nice to see me up there.”

“I wouldn’t do it without your permission, that’s why.”

Eren side-eyed him. “Well,” he crooned. “Maybe I’m giving you permission.”

Pleasantly surprised, Levi’s gaze swept up and down Eren’s body with a smirk.

-

Before indulging his request, they both ate their lunches. After throwing the empty styrofoam containers away, Levi yanked down the blinds to all the windows for total seclusion. He switched on his ring lights and dragged up a small Victorian loveseat that he had found and restored from the trash in front of the plain white backdrop. He stepped back to examine the ensemble. Satisfied, he looked over his shoulder at Eren and gently beckoned him over. Eren’s heart was beating erratically as he neared the set up and stripped down until he was perfectly naked, shivering at the sudden draft. It was strange being exposed in what seemed like a public setting. Levi was kind enough to fold up his clothes, set them aside, and provide a robe for later before guiding him into the loveseat.

Eren noted how Levi was very professional. He didn’t express any sexual desire toward him and instead regarded him as a precious specimen. When Eren sat down, Levi began arranging his body just so. He placed his elbow up on the armrest and then took his wrist and opened his palm so that it could rest under his chin, instructing that he fixate his eyes to the top corner of the ceiling. He also positioned Eren’s right leg to hang organically over the edge while he propped up the left, foot planted on the cushion, and draped his free arm over his knee. Eren blushed at how his manhood was on full display.

As a last touch, Levi reacclimated the ring lights to achieve the most flattering light possible. Afterwards, he went to his easel that had already been prepared with a blank canvas during lunch as well as a small trolley cart that contained well-used watercolor palettes, graphite pencils, various brushes, and a mason jar of water. He took his spot on the stool, picked up a pencil with those lithe, tattooed fingers and lightly etched out the shape and curvature of Eren’s body, eyes darting back and forth between subject and canvas.

As he was sketching, Levi heard Eren chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” he asked without looking up from his workings.

“This really is like the Titanic.”

The corners of Levi’s mouth twitched upwards. After doing a rough outline, he washed the area with a coating of water, followed by red, so that it enhanced the cool tones that would be layered overtop of it.

Seeing Levi so concentrated and passionate about his art stirred something inside Eren that had his member hardening between his legs. Flustered, he went to conceal it with his hand but Levi stopped him.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said calmly. “It happens more often than you think.”

Eren resituated his arm in acknowledgement and tried to will his erection down anyways. Eventually, he succeeded since he would sit there for another two hours until Levi was finished.

Within that timespan, they didn’t converse much as Levi was wholly consumed in the task at hand, but they did play a motley of music on his Alexa, each taking turns to listen to their own interests. True to his character, Levi requested a lot of 90’s grunge bands like Concrete Blonde, Stone Temple Pilots, Alice in Chains, and Soundgarden while Eren, true to his character as well, requested Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and The Rolling Stones. At one point, he asked Alexa to find Metallica’s “S&M” album and upon hearing metal music being mixed together with a classical orchestra, Levi ceased mid-brushstroke.

“I’ve never heard this version before.”

Eren swelled with pride knowing that was his way of saying he liked it.

“The album is a masterpiece,” he gushed. “It’s like Metallica was made to be played alongside violins. It was actually the first piece of music my dad ever gave me. Imagine young nine-year-old Eren playing this on the bus in his shitty little CD player while on the way to first grade.”

“That explains so much.” Levi resumed painting. “Alexa, turn volume up.”

Once two hours had passed, Levi put his brush down and stretched in his spot, popping the bones in his back and waving to Eren to come take a gander. Eren stretched himself, too, before throwing on the robe that Levi had left for him earlier. He walked over to Levi’s side barefoot and bent down to get a good view.

It was odd seeing himself in such an artistic form. The cool tones and softness of the watercolor made him look ethereal. His breath caught in his throat and he gasped audibly in amazement and wonder.

“Oh, wow.”

Levi replied by cracking his knuckles and shrugging. Shortly after, he felt a finger slip under his chin and tilt his head upwards so that Eren could capture his lips with his own. It was chaste but sensual and when they parted, Eren asked lowly, “How will I ever repay you?”

Levi had a few methods in mind.

-

Eren grunted as he was thrown up onto the work table, Levi’s cock buried inside of him. Eren shucked the robe off his shoulders, the fabric falling down his arms and pooling at his wrists, and he shook it off. Hands freed, they grabbed Levi’s face and crashed their mouths together with such force that the weight caused Levi to stumble backwards, losing his balance, and they both plummeted back onto the floor, Eren now on top of him.

Levi groaned in pain and Eren murmured a hasty, breathless apology. Recovering quickly, Levi scooted himself up against a cabinet, hauling Eren with him who gripped the edge of the counter and used it as leverage to ride him earnestly. Biting his lip, Levi dug his fingers into the flesh of Eren’s ass with one hand and took his length with the other, pumping him as he rutted against him.

As the pleasure began to overwhelm him, Eren’s eyes slid shut and he pressed his forehead against his arm, still moving on Levi’s cock, panting excitedly, sweet release on the horizon.

“I’m coming. Oh, fuck, I’m coming,” he whimpered in ecstacy.

“Hold it.”

Eren heeded the command by slowing the pace just a fraction, granting Levi with the opportunity to clutch Eren’s shoulders and thrust up into him vigorously in order to build his orgasm faster. When he felt himself reaching climax, a coarse groan escaped him.

“Now.”

A high, almost girlish moan discharged from Eren as he came, rocking his hips as it pulsated throughout every vein, every muscle. He winced as Levi sank his teeth into his chest, ascending to his own pinnacle, and ran his fingers upwards to tighten around the back of Eren’s neck, making him shudder.

Exhausted, Eren kept his hold on the counter but let his shoulders slacken and he dangled there trying to catch his breath.

“Does this mean-” he stopped to inhale sharply. “Does this mean I get to go on your wall now?”

“Front and center,” Levi affirmed, equally fatigued.


	3. The Rosewood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love everything about this chapter. Periodt. 
> 
> Still missin' the club.

Being naked in Levi’s art studio resulted in a permanent invitation for Eren to drop by whenever he wanted. It was conveniently located near Trost University so he would often make the short drive to nap on one of Levi’s rehabilitated sofas or eat lunch with him in between classes. Today, on a Saturday afternoon, Eren pulled a stool up to the large, paint-stained wood table and sat hunched over his laptop, struggling to complete a research paper about comparative judicial politics that was due by Monday night. The amount of tabs opened on his web browser made him anxious and the fact that twelve pages needed to be typed and he only had two written didn’t help much either. The only comfort he had was catching glances at the watercolor nude of himself hanging on the wall, which only managed to make him feel marginally better at present.

It was better than nothing, though.

Levi came into the loft then from downstairs where he had gone to converse with Hanji who had come to collect rent.

“We’re going out later,” he announced as soon as he entered.

Eren peered up from his computer screen. “Where?”

“The Rosewood with Hanji.”

The name was familiar. Eren had heard it mentioned in numerous conversations with friends and amongst other students before and, recognizing it, he regarded Levi apprehensively. “The gay bar?”

“It is known for the shes, theys, and the gays,” he confirmed.

“Oh, uh, yeah sure.”

The hesitancy in Eren’s tone made Levi circle around the table until he was in front of him on the opposite side. He placed both hands on top of it and leaned his weight into his arms. “You are the epitome of a clueless frat boy.”

“I’m not even in a frat,” Eren countered weakly.

The corners of Levi’s mouth curled up in a knowing smirk. “You’ve never been to a gay bar.”

“I’ve passed by one.”

The current subject had Levi debating on whether or not to prod into Eren’s personal life but considering how they were teetering a very thin line between fuckmates and potentially something beyond, casualty becoming a progressively blurred concept, a little prodding seemed justified.

“What are your feelings about your sexuality if you don’t mind me asking?”

Obviously, it wasn’t the first time Eren had been asked that question or had wondered it himself. It wasn’t a topic that bothered him. Only that he had accepted it as a gray area in his life that he didn’t spend much time analyzing. It seemed pointless to him, so he responded to Levi’s inquiry with a shrug. “I don’t really think about it.”

“You let me stick my dick in your ass and you mean to tell me you don’t think about it?”

The jest had Eren’s cheeks turning a pinkish hue.

“Do you identify as gay?” Levi entreated gently.

“No.”

“Bisexual?”

“I’m just Eren,” he said definitively. “I don’t know. I fuck who I wanna fuck and I leave it at that.”

Levi drew his hands up as a defensive gesture. “Alright, alright.” He let the issue die there and went back to his easel to resume a commission that needed to be done by the end of the weekend, but before he did that, he added, “By the way, there’s a drag show tonight so bring friends.”

-

Although the prospect of being introduced to a new subculture had Eren a little nervous he did, in fact, ask his friends to tag along via their ongoing group chat. When he disclosed that they would be going to The Rosewood, Ymir and Historia confirmed they were joining almost instantly and unsurprisingly since they frequented gay bars nearly as often as one would go to the convenience store. Everyone else received the plans supportively, but Connie and Sasha already had tickets to a basketball game and Reiner and Bertholdt were going out of town to stay with their friend Marcel at Marley State University which, incidentally, was where Eren’s brother also attended.

So, that left Armin, Mikasa, Annie, and Jean who all agreed to go.

Eren noted how the math evened out on that one rather suspiciously and while he knew Annie and Armin were making moves on each other after that night at Sina, he begrudgingly wondered if the same was happening between Jean and his sister behind the scenes. Needless to say, Mikasa wouldn’t utter a word of it if that were the case so all he had was his own speculations.

Eren left the studio around dinnertime and went home to shower after him and Levi agreed that they would meet at his apartment later. Once through the front door, Eren beelined directly to the bathroom and upon entering, Mikasa was standing in front of the mirror straightening her already straight hair. Eren eyeballed her dubiously, thinking about her and Jean again, but decided to say nothing of it. Instead he demanded she leave so he could get ready. When she refused, Eren began stripping down naked anyways.

Mikasa cupped a hand around her eyes, unplugged her straightener, and relocated herself to her room while muttering, “You’re absolutely disgusting.”

After washing up, Eren brushed his teeth generously and then crossed the hallway to his bedroom to throw on a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and a freshly cleaned flannel that was still folded in a hamper. When dressed, he sprayed two pumps of his cologne. One on his left, one on his right. Both just under the neck. He gathered his damp hair into a bun and pulled out some tendrils to frame his face. Feeling rejuvenated, he went out to the living room where Armin was on the couch, staring at his phone, waiting for Annie. Eren grabbed his keys and informed him that he was leaving and that he’d meet up with them later. Armin waved distractedly.

Eren got back into his Jeep Cherokee that was a decade old and that he’d owned since high school and drove to Levi’s apartment. It really was a night of firsts. Eren had never formally been there either. Levi had told him in passing where it was and Eren knew the complex because Jean of all people used to live there freshman year, but they never actively made plans to hang out there. Eren assumed it was either because Levi secretly preferred the atmosphere of the house or that he was territorial of his living space. Based on what he’d experienced so far of Levi’s personality, Eren was certain it was the latter, meaning that this was an act of good faith.

Eren pondered then if their relationship would remain casual or if it was ever meant to be so. They had stated explicitly that they wanted it to be, but wants and reality are two separate phenomena. Do casual relationships see each other multiple times a week? Do they go to dinner often? Do they coexist while they work and study? He mulled over these questions insistently as he pulled his car up to the sidewalk of a downtown avenue, not terribly far from the studio actually, and got out. He pressed the button on his key fob and locked the doors to his car as he stepped into a brick building, climbing a flight of stairs, and searched for 2B. Eren checked his text messages at least three times to make sure that was the correct number he had been given before knocking.

When Levi answered, he was dressed in a black, low-cut shimmering top that fully exposed his tattoos, a fashionable blue blazer layered overtop, nice shoes, and a choker around his neck. Eren noticed a hint of sparkling eyeshadow in the corners of his eyes and underneath his brow bone, his eyelashes coated thinly with mascara.

Eren’s jaw was on the floor. “You look so... _pretty_.”

Levi scanned him up and down gravely. “And you look like a tragedy.” With that, he took Eren by the wrist and whisked him inside. Eren barely had time to absorb his surroundings which were quaint, minimalistic chic, and, as expected, spotless, before Levi dragged him to his bedroom to fix his style blunder. The bedroom was also modish like the rest of the apartment. Low-rise bed, starched white comforter, and a matching nightstand and dresser set. Levi released Eren then and scrutinized his outfit again, finger to his chin, the gears in his brain shifting knowing that not a single item of clothing in his closet would fit him.

“Take off the flannel,” he commanded. “It’s hideous.”

Eren shed off the flannel upon request and, too scared to put it anywhere, he simply handed it to Levi. Another moment passed as Levi mused about what to do with him. Then he raised a hand, instructing him to stay put as he disappeared out the bedroom door and reappeared shortly after with a pair of scissors. He motioned them towards Eren’s shirt.

“You mind?”

“Uh,” Eren looked down at his shirt, determining if he cared about it or not. “No, go ahead.”

Levi lifted Eren’s collar and began cutting it off. Once he removed the seam, Levi hooked his fingers on either side and forced out the fabric, stretching and tearing it so that it was loose enough to expose Eren’s collarbone. As a next step, Levi freed Eren’s hair from its bun and shook it out with his hands, allowing it to spill around his shoulders. Because Eren had secured it when wet, it was naturally volumized and wavy. Levi decided that Eren’s pants and shoes were agreeable, but he lacked accessories. He opened the top drawer of his dresser and picked out a layered silver necklace and wrapped it around Eren’s neck and clasped it in the back. As a final touch, Levi disappeared once again but to the bathroom this time and came out with a small container of lip tint that he applied lightly to Eren’s lips.

Levi took a step back and examined his work. Not quite there yet. He went over to his closet, remembering that he actually did have a bomber jacket that was two sizes too big for him and he offered it to Eren. As soon as he put it on, Levi became satisfied and he patted the side of Eren’s face warmly.

“That’ll do, pig.”

-

They took an Uber to The Rosewood and on the way Eren couldn’t stop checking himself out in his phone camera, soaking in this new alter ego. He typically never wore his hair down. He also typically didn’t wear makeup but here he was anyway. Oddly enough, he liked it, and Levi regarded him amusedly in the backseat as he admired himself in a different light.

When they arrived, they both exited the vehicle and strolled up to the front entrance where just outside Eren’s group was waiting. All of them collectively ceased talking when they spotted him and Levi. Jean, Armin, and Mikasa in particular stared at Eren dumbfounded.

Ymir, also dressed to impress along with Historia since they were about to venture into their native habitat, chuckled at him, a cigarette burning between her long fingers. “Are you wearing lip gloss?”

“It’s _lip tint_ ,” Eren rebuked harshly as if it mattered.

Jean, of course, opened his mouth to quip something ignorant but Eren shot him a look that could cut glass and whatever he had wanted to say died on his tongue. Instead, he, Ymir, and Annie all snuffed out their smokes on the concrete and they all entered the club through a heavy metal door. At first glance, Eren observed how it was smaller than he had anticipated. It was about half the size of Sina, but was decently populated for it being before 10 p.m. Colorful lights were plentiful and there was a modest dance floor off by the far wall. Eren also saw how the patrons were dressed a lot differently. More fashionable. He definitely would have stood out as an outsider in his flannel and suddenly he was grateful for Levi’s intervention. Now it was only Jean and Armin who looked out of place.

The second they came through the doorway they all received a gracious and excited welcome from Hanji which aided in quelling some nerves.

“Eren Jaeger and friends!” she called to them with her arms outreached and embraced them all as if she had known them her whole life. When she got to Levi, rather than hug him, she pinched his cheek like a child and he slapped her arm away peevishly.

After salutations, Ymir and Historia walked right up to the bar totally unbothered and like they owned the place. Their self-assurance helped in facilitating others in the group to follow them. Levi took Eren up to the bar on his own and got service the moment he approached by a man in a loose-fitted tank top, his nipples almost showing.

“What can I get you, babe?”

Levi pointed a finger at Eren questionably. “Disaranno?”

He shook his head, eyes scoping out the club. “Vodka redbull tonight actually.”

“Barf.” Levi reshifted his focus back to the bartender. “A vodka redbull with Tito’s and a bendy straw for the kid and can I get a Stoli’s on the rocks with a twist?”

The bartender smiled playfully at Eren while speaking to Levi. “Pink or blue bendy straw?”

“Pink because he’s been _such_ a good boy lately.”

Eren rolled his eyes but the manner in which Levi had barely purred that sentence stirred something primal inside him, causing him to lean into him closer as they waited for their drinks which were made with impressive promptness. When the bartender slid Eren his vodka redbull decorated with a pink bendy straw, Eren plucked it out and tossed it teasingly at Levi as he took a large first drink.

While they stood at the bar, a woman with a slender face and short, icy blonde hair came up to greet them. As she drew nearer, a nagging part of Eren’s brain suspected that she may not have been a woman at all. He honestly couldn’t say for sure and he probably stared a little too intently.

“Levi, my darling,” she cooed as she wrapped her arms around him. Eren was astonished when Levi returned the embrace and permitted her to kiss him on both cheeks. “I’m so glad you came. I know it’s hard to do that these days in your old age.”

“Nanaba,” Levi said coolly. “Do you say the same thing to the men you ride at the retirement home for their pensions?”

Nanaba gasped dramatically and pushed his shoulder gingerly. “Now, Levi, play nicely.” Her eyes fixated on Eren then and they narrowed flirtatiously. “Oh, hello, and who is this?”

Her aura was fascinating yet intimidating and it had Eren introducing himself with a hint of trepidation. “I’m Eren.”

“Well, Eren, you are gorgeous.” Nanaba touched his hair affectionately. “And this hair, miss thing? Serving me Conan the Barbarian realness. What are you doing with this hateful man when you have a real woman right in front of you?”

“Ah, ah,” Levi warned and stuck his arm between her and Eren as a barrier. “Not for sale.”

Nanaba laughed and waved her hand good-naturedly. “I tease, of course. Levi and I are good friends. The only time I’d fuck one of his lovers is if we were doing it together.” She winked at a speechless Eren and went to leave their company. “Well, I must be off. These queens can’t stand that it only takes me an hour to prep this beautiful mug before a set.” She kissed her fingers and wiggled them goodbye as she vanished through a door hidden in the corner of the room.

“Not to be rude,” Eren started tentatively and lowered his voice, “but was that a man or a woman? Am I allowed to ask that?”

“You’re allowed to ask _me_ that and me only.” Levi sipped on his Stoli’s. “She’s a trans woman.”

Another thing to add to Eren's list of firsts for this evening since he had never met a transgender person before.

-

After lingering by the bar for about an hour and polishing off two rounds of drinks, the music that was playing overhead grew much louder as a way of persuading people to the dance floor. Ymir and Historia, per usual, were the first ones to go while everyone else hung back and people watched for a bit longer. However, the only person Eren was watching was Levi who was completely in his element. Several regulars came up to him similarly to how Nanaba did and he received them sincerely and introduced them to Eren who forgot all of their names. It didn’t matter much, though. Granted they had only known each other a short while, but Eren had never seen Levi interact with others in this fashion before; like he was happy to see them.

As Levi chatted away with them, Eren theorized that perhaps this was who Levi truly was once his walls were down. He imagined that Levi had grown up in this scene and that the people here were a family to him. While Eren wasn’t concerned much with the technicalities of his own sexuality, Levi clearly appreciated and found comfort in the culture that came with being a queer individual. He walked up to bar-goers he knew with his extravagant outfit and highlighted brows with an air that radiated absolute confidence. He spoke with a degree of elevation that was unlike his day-to-day impassiveness and he was drinking more than usual purely because he was pleased to be there.

Another half hour or so later, Eren could tell Levi was getting tipsy from the flush on his face and how he showed his teeth when he smiled.

He never looked more extraordinary.

Eren sauntered up to him boldly and ensnared an arm around him, apologizing to the small group he was engaged in conversation with, and pried him away to the dance floor without much protest. When seeing the two of them coming forward, Historia screamed in delight and beckoned them over excitedly just as Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” came through the speakers.

Another thing Eren noticed about gay clubs is how they held a unique energy that didn’t take itself too seriously and thrived in fun. Levi and him danced airly, moving their bodies fluidly and effortlessly to the rhythm. As the song progressed, others from the group spotted them and gradually joined in. Hanji appeared first, followed by Armin, Annie, Jean and Mikasa in that order and they mingled together. The atmosphere offered a comfortability where literally anyone could be a dance partner. Eren backed away from Levi so that he could grasp Mikasa’s hand and twirl her around and, invigorated, she did the same for him. Next, he danced with Armin and then Historia and even a few strangers who evidently enjoyed their enthusiasm and wanted in on the action which they happily accepted.

And then, in a beautiful act of harmony, stranger and friend alike sang the chorus to one another with passion and fervor, reaching out and serenading each other. Even Levi was just inebriated enough to look blissfully at Eren as they all belted out, “Oh I wanna dance with somebody! I wanna feel the heat with somebody! Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody! With somebody who loves me~!”

Right before the end of the song, Hanji and Levi came together, hands clasped, and danced like trained experts. They pushed outward and pulled themselves back in, ducking under each other’s arms and twisted their upper bodies and repeated this motion several times over, faster and with more variation each time. Eren glowed with pride watching them and wondered in awe how long him and Hanji had been doing this together. He pictured them both in their early youth, going to the same clubs, and impressing everyone with the same stunts.

When the music faded out, they ceased dancing and their chests visibly heaved in exhaustion but they smiled nonetheless as people around them cheered, Eren arguably being the loudest.

They all continued on for a couple more numbers. The vivacity was consuming and they only stopped when the music was purposefully lowered as one of the workers got on a microphone and requested that everyone clear the area in preparation for the upcoming drag show.

Eren exited the dance floor with Levi, fanning himself feebly. Levi advised him to stay behind so they could have a decent view as he went off to order them more drinks. Jean volunteered to be a drink runner as well and joined him while the rest stayed put. When Levi returned, he carried two drinks and two plastic shot glasses. He gave one of each to Eren who studied the contents of the smaller cup.

“What is it?”

“A kamikaze,” Levi answered. “You’re at a gay bar. What else would it be?”

Eren shrugged and saluted, wrapping his forearm around Levi’s and they emptied their shots together and sucked down their mixed drinks.

Ten minutes later, the lights switched off and a single spotlight shined brightly past the dance floor to the silver fringe curtain that hung beyond that led backstage. Out of it emerged a tall, breathtaking drag queen with flawless brown skin and sharply sculpted features wearing six-inch heels and a showgirl dress. Eren instantly was transfixed along with his friends.

The drag queen was welcomed exuberantly from the crowd and she surveyed them all while speaking into a microphone. “How’s everyone doing tonight?” A wave of shouts and cheers ensued. When the commotion died down, she put a hand over her brow to shield the spotlight and squinted her eyes. “Jesus, there’s a lot of twinks here tonight. Y’all are gonna have to bump purses like the lesbians. Scissor me timbers.” Ymir hollered in response to that and Historia shushed her, mortified. “Seriously, who’s gonna top all of you motherfuckers? Raise your hand if you’re a top.” A plethora of hands raised proudly but she wasn’t convinced and she honed in on an older gentleman off to her left. “Why you out here lying to these people, girl? You look like you’ve been taking dick in the ass since FDR was president.”

Laughter rang high and Eren would admit he laughed as well. He turned to Levi, eyes twinkling with amusement, and Levi gifted him a smile in return. The drag queen, the obvious hostess for the evening, performed a short comedy bit to get the audience warmed up before she announced the first set.

“Alright,” she sang. “You know her, you love her, and most of you have probably fucked her. Give it up for the greatest woman plastic surgery ever created: Nanaba!”

Levi leaned over to Eren and spoke in his ear. “Nanaba’s kind of famous around here. You’re in for a treat.”

The white spotlight transformed into a light blue ambiance and the electric-techno melody from Lady Gaga’s “Mary Jane Holland” started to play but no one had yet come on stage. It wasn’t until the heavy bass blasted overhead that Nanaba strutted fiercely out from behind the silver fringe, lip syncing the lyrics as if she created them herself, while she sported a long voluminous blonde wig, a green rhinestone bodysuit, and matching leather heeled boots. The sheer intensity of it made Armin gasp in amazement beside Eren.

Nanaba came center stage, hands on her hips and eyes sharpened, slowly and deliberately gazing around the room before strutting around the perimeter of the dance floor. She veered off to the left and swept over to the front and then to the right so everyone could have the chance to admire her. When the first verse ended and the pre-chorus began, Nanaba reeled back to center stage. The build up she sang with arms extended and fingers splayed out as if she were enticing a lover with her vocals and she clenched her hands into fists, pulling them into her body as she performed a long note before the chorus, followed by on-timed choreography.

She jutted one arm out, then the other, and threw both of them down between his legs one at a time. She rolled her hips and lowered herself until she was kneeling and bent her spine back, the top of her head nearly touching the floor to show how flexible she was. Nanaba snapped forward, back arched high and her ass in the air as she curled her body like a cheetah on the prowl. Once her abdomen was flat on the floor, she banged her fist on it and bounced her lower body simultaneously before putting weight on her hip and spinning around into a sitting position where she splayed her legs out and powerfully smacked her heeled boots together. She stood back up as elegantly as ever and her spell had been cast. Not a single soul in the room could peel their eyes away from her.

The post-chorus came and faded away, ushering in the second verse. Nanaba made her way over to one of the tables that sat beside the dance floor and approached a male patron who was sitting down in a chair. She propped her foot up against it and shoved her crotch towards his face before kicking her leg over his head, whirling around, and plopped down on his lap right in time with “So if you have fear, Apollo, sit on my lyre and play him like a piano, man.” She grinded herself in his pants and he rewarded her with a ten dollar bill which she seized from his hand and retreated before the chorus hit again. When it did, she made a windmill motion with her arm and stomped with the beat and scooted closer to the audience.

In the second post-chorus, Nanaba reached behind her and revealed two unopened fans that were tucked in her waistband and at every stressed syllable, she snapped open a fan, each one cascading glitter and she swept the fans over her figure.

“Yes, bitch, you better work!” Ymir shouted as she waved a wad of dollar bills.

For the bridge of the song, the melody slowed significantly and Nanaba’s energy shifted into something more sorrowful. Nanaba peered up to the spotlight, hand theatrically placed against her forehead like a tragic madonna as she sang:

_I know that Mom and Dad think I’m a mess_  
_But that’s alright because I am rich as piss_

The electric sounds along with a hefty guitar reemerged stronger than ever and Nanaba balled her fists and thrusted them outwards with every chord in perfect sync, her mouth wide and enunciating every vowel. It was the most incredible thing Eren had ever seen; this transgender drag queen bearing her soul in a small downtown club in an impressionable city most people passed by on the freeway.

_When I ignite the flame and put you in my mouth_  
_The grass eats up my insides and my brunette starts to sprout._

As she hit that last elongated note, she bent back her spine as she did at the beginning of her set, now standing up, before suddenly straightening again and she beamed, “Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Mary Jane Holland!” Nanaba tore off her wig and casted it away, more glitter pouring out from under it and sprinkling down her face as she shook out another wig that was hidden underneath, revealing brunette hair. Screams erupted from the crowd and as a grand finale, Nanaba jumped into a cartwheel and transitioned into a back handspring, landing into a clean split, pounding her pussy into the floor. As if the screams weren’t loud enough before, they shook the entire room now and dollar bills rained everywhere.

Eren slapped his hands to his cheeks in disbelief, eyes wide. “Oh, _wow_!”

A five dollar bill appeared before him then, offered by Levi’s hand. Eren took it without much thought and Levi, in an act of generosity, gave another one to Mikasa who awkwardly accepted and both siblings stuck their arms out and flashed the money. As Nanaba completed her set, she did a lap around the dance floor and collected her earnings.

Nanaba returned to center stage one last time and bowed, out of breath but still looking beautiful.

Levi tucked his fingers inside his mouth to let out a sharp whistle.

-

Several other performances followed Nanaba. All equally enchanting. One drag queen came out dressed as a nun singing hymns before the music abruptly switched to Marilyn Manson and she tore away her black robes to unveil red BDSM gear underneath and she lip synced with an upside down cross. Another queen performed “Beauty School Dropout” from Grease while she sang until a purple dildo. And another twerked over Ymir’s face as she laid herself down at the edge of the dance floor with a dollar bill sticking out of her teeth.

Eren thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

After the show, Nanaba had found Eren and Levi back at the bar and ordered them a round. Eren was tipsy, to be sure, but had been moderately pacing himself. Levi, on the other hand, had not been doing anything of the sort and his eyes were glossed over as Nanaba recounted an old story.

“Do you remember when I tried sleeping with women for a while before my transition?” Nanaba groaned at the memories and addressed Eren since he had never heard the tale before. “One time I was screwing this girl from behind and my cock slipped out and I accidentally rammed it in her virgin ass. Poor thing passed right out.”

Levi, recalling the incident, buried his head in his arm resting on the bar and laughed drunkenly.

Eren, laughing half at Nanaba and half at Levi’s reaction, caught Hanji going outside to the patio area and he excused himself, desperate for a cigarette, knowing Levi was in safe and capable hands. He grabbed his borrowed jacket from off the back of the chair and headed out the door, greeted by a chilled breeze as he took the pack of Marlboros from his pocket and stuffed one in his mouth. He neared Hanji as she was lighting her own cigarette and, seeing him, lit his as well.

She exhaled. “Are you having fun?”

“Honestly, this is the most fun I’ve had in awhile.”

“I’m glad, really.” Hanji took another drag and held the smoke in her lungs. “I haven’t seen Levi like this in...years, I think.”

Eren was in the middle of flicking off the ash of his cigarette and bringing the filter back to his mouth when he paused, comprehending her words and tried to play it cool. “Is that so?”

“Levi has a habit dating people who come with a lot of baggage. Leeches who suck what little emotion he has out of him.” She stopped, considering him for a moment. “You’re not like the others.”

“I wouldn’t say we’re dating,” Eren corrected.

Hanji must have misunderstood his statement for disappointment, and perhaps there was an undertone of it that he wasn’t aware of, for she encouraged him. “Give it time. Levi’s been through some hardships that extend beyond relationships, too.” She pointed a threatening finger at him. “Do not tell him I said that. I’ve been drinking.”

Eren wasn’t certain if he should dig anymore but curiosity took hold. “What kind of shit?”

“Just a lot of stuff with his family. I’m certain he’ll tell you in due course, but all you need to know is that he is clearly very happy with you.” At that, she scrapped out the cherry of her cigarette in an abandoned ashtray on one of the metal patio tables. “Shall we?”

Eren nodded and stabbed his cigarette out, too, and followed Hanji back inside the club where he looked over at the end of the bar that he had been occupying with Nanaba and Levi and saw that Levi was gone. Momentarily panicked, Eren inspected the room and quickly spied him out on the dance floor again which had opened back up for the final hour before last call. He swayed along with his friends, rapturous and enjoying his life, and Eren dared to admit that his heart fluttered in response.

-

It was 3 a.m. when Levi stumbled into his apartment building and would have done a nosedive forward if Eren hadn’t caught him by the back of his collar.

Levi rubbed his blurry eyes. “Shit, I’m fucked up.”

Eren chuckled, entirely too entertained to care. “Are you gonna be able to make it up the stairs?”

He didn’t need to look up at the stairs to know the answer to that. “Absolutely not.” Without warning, Levi felt Eren hoist him up as if he weighed as much as a feather and throw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as they ascended to the second floor.

“This is embarrassing,” Levi mumbled as he dangled around Eren’s back.

“You should have seen me last New Year’s. I would have put you to shame.”

When they reached the apartment door, Eren readjusted Levi for a stronger hold so that he could go into his back pocket and steal the keycard. He inserted it into the card reader and waited for a clicking noise before entering. He carried Levi straight to the bedroom where he flopped him down on the bed and slipped off his shoes with ease before hauling him up into a sitting position with a laborious groan and removed his blazer like a baby with no perception of balance.

Somewhere along the line, Levi, room spinning and body numb, snatched Eren by the shirt and pulled him in for a sloppy, liquor-fueled kiss. All tongue and teeth. Hot, wet, and vigorous. Levi raked both hands through Eren’s hair, loving how it felt in his fingers. He urged him down on top of him, legs open to welcome him, and his hand shifted directions to travel down to the small of Eren’s back and weld their clothed erections together. Levi moaned animatedly.

“Fuck me,” he whispered between kisses.

It took a second to process the request and, when he did, Eren parted from him in shock. “You’re drunk.”

“Brilliant deduction,” he slurred as he worked to undo Eren’s zipper clumsily and, not without reluctance, was it grabbed and taken away.

“Levi, listen to me. I would knock the dust off that ass under any other circumstances, but you need to go to bed.”

Levi glared up at Eren, challenging him, and when he understood that the other party wasn’t breaking in their convictions, he grunted annoyedly and shoved him away so he could crawl up on the bed and bury himself in one of the pillows. Eren threw a blanket over him since he had no desire to try and wrestle the comforter out from underneath him.

“Goodnight,” he crooned sweetly.

Eren turned to leave and get some water but Levi stole his hand, still facedown in a pillow and grumbled something before passing out and Eren knew he must have been hearing shit because for a split second he thought Levi said, “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Levi growing up with Hanji in the LGBTQ+ scene and being terrific dancers? Ymir and Historia being queens of the gay bar? Ymir happily yelling at scissoring and putting money in her mouth? Eren not being woke but trying anyways? Nanaba pulling a Roxxxy Andrews/Sasha Velour combo? CANON. IT'S ALL CANON.


	4. Southern Charm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another me projecting aspects of my life into this story. And people who are following this story and my ongoing Among the Wildflowers story. Bitch, you get TWO updates in one week. That never happens. 
> 
> Also bottom Levi this chapter. Eat your heart out. 
> 
> Pre-season 4 Eren would not be up for the task, but Daddy Eren? Man-bun Eren? He would tear that ass up and then some.

Levi was trapped in one of those bottomless sleeps. A sleep where he felt like he had more or less died and had somehow been resurrected from the void. He awoke in a temporary delirium before the perception of his senses kicked in. His mouth was drier than the Sahara Desert, his tongue tasted like stale cigarettes and vodka, and a hangover pulsated behind his eyes and spread out into his frontal lobe. Looking to his left, he was welcomed by the sight of Eren shirtless, sprawled out on his stomach, and lightly snoring away. To his right, he spotted a bottle of water and two aspirin placed on his nightstand, a gift bestowed upon him from the sleeping beauty beside him, no doubt. Levi propped himself up on his elbow, his vision patchy, black orbs floating around the corners of it, and gracelessly snatched the water bottle and twisted off the cap. Next he took the pills and plopped them in his mouth before draining all the contents inside the plastic bottle, one large and desperate gulp at a time. The hydration helped a little bit in clearing his foggy brain and Levi groaned when he swallowed the last of it.

Levi laid there for a few minutes longer, staring off into another dimensional plain as his body slowly but surely became alert. Once he was semi-cognizant enough to perceive his own musk, fermented from alcohol and sweat, he sat up with a newfound mission: to take a much-needed shower. He climbed out of bed carefully so as not to disturb Eren, but he must have detected Levi’s shifting weight in his slumber and a tired hum eluded him as he was roused to consciousness.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled groggily.

“To shower.”

Mind still delayed from sleep, it took him an extra second to register Levi’s answer, but once he did, his demeanour became playful. “Can I come?”

“I don’t care,” Levi replied as a sigh.

Eren got up on his hands and knees, bones cracking and popping as they always did, while he stretched out his arms, muscles rippling in the exertion, hair loose and wavy from the night before. He slipped out of bed dressed only in his briefs and followed behind Levi to the bathroom which wasn’t anything special. Typical porcelain amenities that one usually finds in apartment complexes. A tiny sink and vanity mirror as well as a narrow closet for storage. Levi ripped back the shower curtain and rotated the nozzle and they both stripped naked as the water heated up. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, Levi saw how his mascara had been smudged under his eyes, making it look like he got punched in both of them.

When the water reached a reasonable temperature, Eren and Levi both stepped inside the tub, closing the curtain, and strictly showered, not in the mood for much else. Levi selfishly stood underneath the shower head and hoarded all the hot water, letting it cascade and berate his face to dull his headache while Eren shivered behind him.

“Share the wealth, maybe?”

“I need it more than you,” Levi said decisively.

He wasn’t entirely uncharitable though. After another minute of allowing the heat to melt away his hangover, he backed away, wiping the water from his face and smoothing back his hair before pushing Eren forward so he could get his fix. In the meantime, Levi picked up a washcloth from his shower caddy and lathered it up with soap and scrubbed himself down with it. Eren and him went in rotation after that. Levi rinsed, Eren washed his body. Eren rinsed, Levi washed his hair, and so on and so forth until they were finished. Levi exited first to grab a towel for himself from the closet and another for Eren. They both dried off, wiping their limbs and rubbing the towels through their hair and wrapping the fabric around their waists as they reentered the bedroom. Levi threw on some grey sweatpants before collapsing back in bed while Eren lounged beside him completely naked without a care in the world as he scrolled through his phone, tapping around to aimlessly view stories on social media.

Reiner had uploaded videos of him at some house party at MSU with Bertholdt and Marcel, his doofus laugh in the background, bass music blaring, a kitchen loitered with liquor bottles and crushed beer cans, and someone jumping fully clothed into a pool that had yet to be drained for the winter while onlookers applauded. Sasha and Connie both posted pictures of the basketball game they attended with big cups of draft beer in one hand and jumbo hotdogs in the other. And, the last one of importance, was Jean’s story at The Rosewood where he obtained some decent recordings of Nanaba’s performance and then at 4 a.m. posted a cryptic message that read, “When she don’t know how beautiful she is” accented with sighing and heart-eyes emojis. Eren tried desperately to convince himself that jackass wasn’t talking about his sister.

Before he could get sucked too far into that abysmal thought, Levi’s voice spoke to him and broke his trance, drawing his focus away from his phone.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he admitted rather sheepishly. “I don’t normally get like that.”

“You’re allowed to be drunk, Levi,” Eren reassured and then offered him a smile. “I personally thought it was adorable. You’re quite the sap.”

The lightest of blushes dusted Levi’s cheeks. Perceiving the embarrassment becoming visible on his features, Levi diverted his eyes and Eren, shocked to see him so out of sorts, nearly died in bliss at the sight. “Is someone’s ears a little red?” he chided as he reached out to pinch his flushed ear lobe.

Levi swatted his hand away. “Fuck off, would you?” The sudden rise in irritation evened out his emotions and he recomposed himself before pressing on. “The last half of the night was a bit of a blur, to be honest. I’m almost afraid to ask what happened.”

“Not much,” Eren said offhandedly, looking back at his phone. “You were in a really good mood when we left. I think you hugged Hanji twice and called her your soulmate.”

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.”

“And then we took an Uber home and you passed out in the back. I had to drag you out. I carried you up the stairs, threw you in bed, and then you asked me to fuck you like a woman.”

The last part of his narration was recounted with such casualness that Levi wasn’t quite sure if he misheard him. Realizing that he, in fact, did not mishear anything had his eyes widening. “Did you?”

“No, but I wanted to.”

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “You could have, you know-”

“Not when you’re that clipped,” Eren interjected.

“No, I mean, what I’m trying to say is that I would have…”

Understanding immediately what he was trying to communicate, Eren peered up from his phone for the second time and slowly turned his head towards Levi with a devilish glint in his expression. “Yes?” he encouraged.

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“Hm,” he mused, feigning confusion. “Don’t think I do, sorry.”

Levi’s eyes sharpened. “You shitty fucking brat.”

“Just say what you mean,” Eren urged.

No direct response followed. Only a steadfast glare.

“Say it.”

“I would have liked it, okay?” Levi confessed quickly.

And there it was. Freed by the truth. Eren tossed his phone aside, the furthest thing from his mind now, and crawled overtop of Levi, damp hair falling around his face as his gaze bore down on him. “So, you want me to fuck you like a woman?” he posed, voice low.

Levi held his ground by not showing any signs of submission and challenged him instead. “I don’t think you’re up for it.”

Eren nodded his chin, self-assured. “Turn around.” The command caused Levi to recoil slightly, uneasiness flashing in his eyes. “I’m not going in dry for Christ sake. Turn around,” he ordered again and then added, “All fours.”

Levi, knowing his manners, did as he was told and positioned himself on his hands and knees, staring at the headboard ahead as Eren, wasting zero time, hooked his fingers inside the waistband of his sweats and yanked them down, exposing him completely. Two hands were placed on both of his ass cheeks and spread them apart crudely. Being greeted by Levi’s opening, Eren spat on it for good measure and proceeded to eat him out with earnestness. Levi gasped, pleasantly surprised, and his cock twitched to life from the wet sounds coming from Eren’s mouth as his tongue swirled around him, sucked on him, and stiffened so that he could stick it inside and taste him thoroughly while he kneaded his ass like dough and saliva trickled down his taint.

Eren violated him with his mouth for quite some time, clearly relishing the act as much as Levi was from receiving it by the growls rumbling in his throat. Eventually though, Eren’s jaw began to ache and he removed his tongue, much to Levi’s dismay, only to promptly replace it with two inserted fingers buried up to the knuckles. Levi bit his bottom lip and responded agreeably by spreading his knees farther apart on the comforter and arching his back deeply. He folded his arms out on the pillow before him and rested his head on top of them to get comfortable as he reveled in the feeling of those long, imposing fingers pushing in and out of him. A shudder racked his body as Eren planted gentle and deliberate kisses along his spine while he worked and twisted his wrist, and when he hit that money spot, Levi surrendered to his verbal instincts and released a tangible moan, high, tempestuous, and whorish. Definitely not like what Eren was accustomed to when the roles were reversed. It lit an impassioned fire within and he needed to hear more, so he stroked that spot over and over until a whole string of those lewd, uncharacteristic moans were flowing from Levi like a beautiful and lecherous symphony.

He did not, however, permit him to cum yet and he withdrew his digits just as Levi was teetering into a potential climax.

Eren was now hard as a rock, almost painfully so, and ready to submerge himself into the lascivious warmth that awaited him. If he was reasoning with anything other than his dick at the moment, he would have mulled over with more consideration how he never wanted to rail someone into oblivion as badly as he wanted to right now. What was it about Levi that made him so primitive? It was a question that warranted further analysis but first, he needed lube.

Of course, he knew where to search for it. Hiding places for lube were universal. He opened the drawer to the nightstand stationed next to the bed and, lo and behold, there was a tube of it laying at the bottom along with condoms, which they honestly didn’t use anymore because they were respectively clean and condoms comprehensively sucked, and a pair of handcuffs. Again, a typical sex item to be discovered in a nightstand and Eren considered using them momentarily but ultimately decided against it. Another time, perhaps. To be frank, he didn’t have a whole lot of experience in that realm. Not for lack of wanting. Just a lack of how to express it properly with partners which he didn’t have many that were long-term enough to introduce the concept to anyways.

The lube would have to suffice for now.

Eren poured the clear substance on his erection and pumped his hand along his girth, coating himself with it, before situating himself behind Levi and plunging himself into that heat, the body underneath of him stretching and embracing him delectably. Levi's back muscles flexed, tattoos shifting along with them, as he was filled to the brim. Once he was embedded to the hilt, Eren leaned over and nibbled on Levi’s ear, inducing a harsh shiver before he propelled his full weight into him. It wasn’t violent or frenzied, but measured and sensual. With purpose. It arguably felt better that way.

Once they had a good rhythm going, Eren’s hand disappeared underneath Levi to touch his stomach and trail upwards over his chest to settle around his inked throat and squeezed it ever so softly, enough to assert a nice pressure, before goading him up to a more erect position where his back pressed against Eren’s chest, his lips at his ear, panting and fucking him while he clutched that slender neck. Levi grasped the arm connected to the hand that braced him so fervently and rolled his hips to meet the impending force of Eren’s thrusts. They moved together as one while Eren kissed his temple.

Poetic terms failed Levi at present, but for the lack of something more eloquent, everything about it was _sexy as fuck_.

“Face me,” Eren commanded ardently. Levi did not need to be asked twice. He pulled away, cock slipping out of him, and turned around to position himself up onto Eren’s lap where he took him by the base of his member, holding it steady, and lowered himself onto it, their groans mingling together. To Eren, though, it wasn’t enough. He yearned for Levi so ferociously, so hopelessly, that he wanted them to be lost in each other. He grabbed Levi’s legs and secured them around his waist, followed by his arms which he wrapped around his neck. Eren gripped Levi’s hips, fingers digging into flesh, and he resumed their momentum from before, bucking upwards into him while Levi rode his cock. Their bodies were so incredibly close. Mouths open, breath tickling each other’s faces, and chest grating against chest. When their lips inevitably connected, they could have fused together forever. Their tongues melded with one another, savoring each other, _whining_ for each other. Levi, having a weakness for Eren’s hair, ran his hands through its dampness and tugged, separating them so that he could crane that pretty neck of his back and bite his jugular.

The sprinkling of violence turned Eren feral and he threw Levi down onto the mattress, now overtop of him, and pounded him into it as the bedsprings squeaked noisily underneath them. Levi, who had been semi-unsuccessfully restraining his cries of rapture, abandoned all caution to the wind and let it all come out when Eren drilled into his prostate. His vision blurred and an orgasm with swelling between his legs, fierce and hot.

“I’m close,” Levi warned breathlessly.

“Do it, then,” Eren said, equally so. “Cum for me.”

His voice was deeper from lust. It sounded almost like a different person and the intensity of it drove Levi crazy.

“Jesus, keep talking to me like that.”

Those words and their pleading tone stirred something wild in Eren’s ego and his pace quickened considerably. “Your cunt feels so fucking good. It’s so tight and gorgeous. I can’t get enough of it.”

Levi’s eyelids fluttered closed and when they reopened, his eyes had disappeared to the back of his head. A wordless encouragement for Eren to continue.

“Let me hear you.”

Levi moaned so loudly that he would be astounded if the neighbors didn’t hear it.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me you’re about to cum.”

Levi’s pants grew erratic as pleasure overwhelmed him. “I’m coming. Shit, oh _fuck_!” He grounded out the last word, nearly shouted it, and slammed his hands back up against the headboard as he released himself onto his stomach. Witnessing Levi lose control of himself in such a new and exciting way sent Eren barreling over the edge and he came as well, trembling as he expelled himself. When the shockwaves of his orgasm tampered off, Eren pulled out and fell, exhausted, on Levi’s chest who grunted at the sudden weight.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” he asked tiredly after they had both caught their breaths.

Eren chuckled airily and shrugged. “I don't know. It just came over me.”

Levi looked up at the ceiling as he combed his fingers through Eren’s brown locks. “I always wondered what you fucked like.”

“And?”

“You’re passionate. You like intimacy and closeness.” He reverted his attention to Eren then with a tender smile. “I like it.”

-

After an insatiable start to their morning, Eren decided to unwind and laze around Levi’s apartment for the better part of the day with no real desire to leave even though that comparative politics paper still existed in his laptop, incomplete, mocking him, but he chose to make that a problem for his future self.

Left with little clothing options, Eren adorned his flannel from the night before that was deemed too hideous to wear to the club along with a pair of briefs that Levi had offered him from an unopened underwear pack he had buried away in the back of one of his dresser drawers. Levi had redressed himself in those gray sweatpants and not much else as he cooked breakfast and Eren sat on the couch, watching some random rom-com on TV since Levi was very incessant that his help was not needed. Whatever happenings were going on in the movie currently playing, Eren was impervious to it, more interested in spying around Levi’s apartment to gain a better understanding of just who he really was as a person beyond painting and being a clean freak. He honed in on a picture that was propped up on the bookshelf that sat against the opposite wall from the couch and Eren went to take a closer look. Upon further inspection, he discerned that the image was of Levi as a boy, maybe around ten years old, with a woman who had the same black hair and sharp eye shape as his. It was a candid photo taken of them on a bridge over a small river with a bustling cityscape in the background. He recognized it as Chicago. Eren had visited there himself a couple years ago when he and Connie went on a solo trip to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, fake I.D’s on deck, when no one else in their friend group wanted to make the journey and they got kicked out of their third bar when Connie called one of the bartenders a dickwad.

“Oh my god, is this baby Levi?” Eren gushed as he pointed to the photo. “Look at your little baseball cap. You’re too cute. Who is the woman next to you? Your mom? You look a lot alike.”

“Yeah, that’s my mom.”

Eren picked up a strange coldness in his tone that had him remembering what Hanji had confided in him about last night with Levi having a potentially tumultuous history with his family. He tried to keep the atmosphere lighthearted regardless because at the end of the day, he didn’t know the full story. “She’s a babe, too. Like mother, like son, I guess.”

“Come over here and eat some of these eggs before I barf all over them.”

Eren had been starving since he woke up and went straight to the kitchen, startled but appreciative to see that Levi had prepared quite the feast of eggs, toast, bacon, and-

“Sausage gravy and biscuits?” Eren chewed his lip and moaned theatrically. He couldn’t grab a plate fast enough and loaded it up with all the fixings. Levi did the same and they ate together out in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the floor with their food on the coffee table.

Eren shoveled a fork-full of gravy-coated biscuits in his mouth and closed his eyes in delight. “Damn, that’s some good shit.”

Levi took a bite out of his buttered toast. “Growing up in the south had its perks.”

Eren stopped mid-bite on his second scoop of sausage gravy and gaped at him, utterly dumbfounded, as he processed that statement. “Shut up. You’re not a southern boy.”

“I am.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“Just outside Louisville.”

“You’re from _Kentucky_?”

Levi nodded, fork in hand, and stabbed a piece of scrambled egg.

“Shut up!” Eren repeated but with more enthusiasm, giggling at the notion of Levi, artistic, apathetic, sarcastic, tattooed, and unapologetically queer Levi growing up in the heart of Appalachia, surrounded by diesel trucks, swimming holes, and porch rocking chairs. He was so amused that he ignorantly didn’t think about how that may have been difficult for him. “When did you move up north?”

“I was really young. Six or seven, maybe.”

An inquisitive glimmer shined in those green irises. “Did you have an accent?”

Accustomed to receiving that question whenever he disclosed his origin story to others, Levi’s reply was automatic. “I did.”

“Can you still do it?”

“Maybe,” he implied and then shot Eren a look soon after. “Don’t even ask.”

Eren batted his eyelashes comically. “Please?” he whined.

Levi ran his tongue over his teeth pensively and for a second Eren thought he sincerely might not do it when he put his head down and resumed eating. “So, like-”

Eren perked up in anticipation and his grin widened knowing that he was about to indulge him.

“-if someone asked me to play outside and I needed to say, ‘Let me ask my mom,’ I would say ‘Lemme see what mah momma gotta say ‘bout that.’” Levi took on a southern accent so effortlessly that it was unquestionable that his claims about being born in Kentucky were the truth and he wasn’t just pulling Eren’s chain for kicks. “Or if I was asked to put my clothes in the washing machine it was more like ‘Goddammit, Levi, how many times I gotta tell yew to put them drawers in the warshroom?’” Levi reassumed his northern accent to signal that his short-lived performance was over. “Satisfied?”

Eren blinked in disbelief. “That was an out of body experience. What an unlikely turn of events.” He smirked at him then. “You’re a hillbilly.”

The last comment did earn a faint smile from Levi.

Eren stuck a strip of bacon between his teeth and broke off a piece. “Would you judge me if I told you I’m slightly turned on right now?”

“Can I at least finish my eggs first?”

-

As promised, after breakfast they returned to the bedroom, stripped down naked once again, and tumbled into the bedsheets, but this time Eren played the woman and Levi, per his nature, was much more unrelenting. He had Eren face down, bottom up while he restrained his wrists behind his back and the sounds of their skin colliding together in a brutal fashion flooded the room, peppered with a few sharp slaps here and there as Levi cracked a hand over his ass because he knew how much he liked it.

Strange, how he had become so familiar with what he liked.

Afterwards, Eren demanded to do the dishes. It went against his moral framework to watch someone cook and clean up. His mother had instilled in him since he was a child that whoever prepared the meal is exempt from dish duty and she said it a hundred times over as she forced him, Zeke, and Mikasa to scrub pots and pans after every family meal. So, Levi, without much choice, relinquished control over this one thing and obliged him. Meanwhile, Levi busied himself with deep-cleaning his apartment which didn’t need it, but it apparently was a ritual he did every weekend when he wasn’t in the studio. Obviously, cleaning should never be done without music and still feeling the vibes from last night, Levi and Eren both agreed on an 80's playlist and got to work.

In the midst of their respective undertakings, the shuffle somehow switched over to early 2000s pop hits. Neither one of them minded, but as Britney Spear’s “Oops...I Did It Again” emitted from Levi’s bluetooth speaker, Eren set down the dish he was drying and shouted over the music, “You know how you asked me about my sexuality yesterday?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve decided you’re straight,” came Levi’s response from out in the living room where he was wiping down his windows with glass cleaner.

Eren rolled his eyes at the jest and continued on. “I will say I knew something wasn’t quite right with me when I learned the entire choreography to this song when I was five.”

Shortly after saying that, Levi appeared in the kitchen with a cleaning rag slung over his shoulder, giving him a look that prompted a demonstration of his talents. It was only fair since Levi had put his accent on display only an hour before. Eren, unabashed, centered himself in the middle of the kitchen for optimal space and waited for the chorus. His eyes went to the ceiling trying to recall all the movements and did a lot of wide, off-beat arm motions, but did manage to execute the shoulder pop and stepwork correctly and that one part where she folds her hands over each other at her midriff. It was mediocre but no less entertaining.

Later in the afternoon when the cleaning was done, Eren and Levi rested on the couch and, per Eren’s constant insistence, watched “The Big Lebowski” which Levi found to be mildly funny but mostly idiotic. However, he forged some sense of enjoyment since Eren quoted the whole film as if every line was the best piece of comedy ever written by man. It was infinitely more humorous observing him mimic facial expressions, undertones, and body language than seeing the movie itself.

Even in his dedication, Eren did succumb to sleep fifteen minutes before the ending credits scrolled down the screen with his arms folded tightly over his chest, body curled up into a ball, and his head on the armrest. Levi went to the small coat closet in the hallway to get a spare blanket and covered him up with it. Levi instinctively brushed a strand of his hair out of his eyelashes and his chest fluttered in a way that wasn’t wholly foreign to him. Not only was it alarming how quickly he was experiencing it, but something about it in that moment felt different than before.

And it scared him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OoOoOOoooo, Levi’s in looOOoooOooOOOve. 
> 
> Will I ever have a chapter where I don’t incorporate music? I don't know. Probably not. I just love it so much. Sue me. 
> 
> Okay, okay, listen to me. Levi’s being a southern boy? Yes ma’am. I don’t know if I’m the only one who ever thought about this and I’m so glad I’m getting it out of my system, but I am equally a dub and sub watcher. I enjoy and respect both. And we all know Kenny Ackerman is a literal cowboy. In the dub he has a drawl clear as day. And I remember one time Mikasa or SOMEONE IDK saying how she and her family (Eastern and Ackerman) were forced to live on the outskirts of the walls so I just always thought of them like Sasha’s family. Like they’re hillbillies bro. And I thought that if Levi had not gone to the underground, that boy would be a mountain person FOR SURE. So, that’s my reasoning and I’m sticking to it. I LIKE IT. Kenny and Kuchel are Applachian folk, don’t @ me. 
> 
> And last but not least, Eren overcome by dirty talk and calling Levi’s bussy and cunt? SEND ME TO THE FUCKING MOOOOOOOOON BITCH. OW OWWWWW.


End file.
